Megan's Madness
by Bronwyn Celtia
Summary: What happens when a young Fey Prince tries to follow in Jareth's footsteps without having a real clue? Megan isn't Sarah...and she doesn't want to be in the lands of Fey
1. Chapter 1

**MEGAN'S MADNESS**

A story by Bronwyn Celtia.

_Author's note: The Labyrinth is not my property. Jareth, Sarah and Toby belong to Henson, and I thank him for their creation. The majority of my characters come from centuries of folklore. (And it isn't a typo when I call Oberon's Queen Tatiana, not Titiana…Shakespeare took liberties. Devon and little Claire, I must thank my wonderful sister Paisley for. If any of you haven't read her **POSSESSION**, I urge you to read it first I ask for my reader's indulgence… it takes a while for the characters and settings you are familiar with to come into play_


	2. Chapter 2

7

Chapter 1.

Her head hurt. Her whole body ached, but her head felt like it had a thousand shards of glass sticking into it. Which she assumed was entirely possible, given the last thing she remembered was the shattering of the big window of the showroom. She groaned, then slipped back into the blessed darkness.

"I still don't understand why she was brought here," the nurse assigned to the injured young woman whispered.

"She would have died if she hadn't been," the tall, thin man examining the patient commented. "She still might."

She was able to open her eyes this time; slowly, warily. Her head still throbbed, but it was bearable now.

She'd been expecting a hospital room. If this room was in a hospital, it was not Mercy General, or any other she'd ever set eyes on. The bed where she lay was a huge four-poster affair of mahogany, hung with pale blue velvets. More blue velvet hung at the windows, and graced the chairs. The room looked like some luxury suite in a five-star hotel.

"Ah, now there is a welcome sight," a man's gentle voice caught her attention, and she turned her head ever so slightly to see the speaker. "You had us very worried, young woman."

"Sorry," she blinked.

"Well, I suppose we can't really blame you," the man smiled. "Shall we start with an easy question? What is your name?"

"Megan, Megan Lewis," Megan attempted to sit up, and found a nurse in attendance, as well as the man she assumed was a doctor. The nurse arranged the pillows behind her, so she could be comfortable.

"And do you remember what happened?"

Did she? Megan closed her eyes briefly, and images roared through her mind. She and Jolene had been talking about Jolene's plans for the nursery when they'd heard the truck hit the parking rail out front. It hadn't stopped.

"I was at work," Megan whispered. "Jolene and I were at work, and a truck crashed through the showroom window." She opened her eyes and stared at the man at her side. "Jolene, is she alright? Her and the baby?"

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you, child. I do not know," he replied sadly. "I know only that you were brought to me, nearly dead."

"Where am I? This isn't Mercy General," Megan ran one hand over the blue velvet coverlet.

"No, it isn't," the man acknowledged. "I am Dinal, Healer to the Court of Par Valon…"

"I am either still out of it, or I am dead, and the gods have a real sense of humour," Megan decided.

"Why do you say that?" the nurse asked.

"Par Valon is one of the Fey kingdoms, all of which are supposedly set well away from the human realm," Megan replied. "And there isn't any way I should have been able to get there."

"I am surprised you even recognize the name," Dinal said.

"I am studying for my Master's Degree in Folklore and Mythology," Megan informed him.

"Ah, that explains a great deal," Dinal exchanged a look with the nurse. "To every legend, every myth, there is a kernel of truth, Lady Megan."

"I am not 'Lady' anything. Just Megan, or Miss Lewis," Megan stated, frowning. "Where am I?"

"I told you, Par Valon," Dinal repeated gently. "Specifically, the Royal Palace. Prince Mikkal brought you here, and placed you in my care."

"I am losing my mind," Megan sank back against the pillows, her face pale. "Tommy's been warning me for years I was likely to go off the deep end, spending all my time digging into old stories…"

"You are not losing your mind," Dinal said firmly. "Although I can understand why you might think so. It is a good deal to take in. The Fey realm is very real, but very, very few humans, especially adults, ever wander into it."

"Then why am I so lucky?" Megan demanded.

"Prince Mikkal has been attracted to you for some time now. When you were hurt, and he knew human medics could not help you, he brought you here," Dinal explained.

"So I should be dead," Megan said calmly.

"By human standards, yes," Dinal nodded.

"I am human, Healer Dinal," Megan commented, closing her eyes. "I should be dead, and I am not. You tell me it is because this Prince Mikkal brought me here to your care. Who gave him the right to make that choice for me?"

"Pardon, my lady?"

"You did your job. You were given a dying patient and you saved a life. You are a Healer, that is what you do," Megan's voice was calm, controlled. Too controlled for Dinal's taste. "Who gave this Prince Mikkal the right to take me from my world and bring me here?"

"Prince Mikkal is used to doing what he wishes to," the nurse admitted.

"Why me?"

"That, you would be best served asking him," Dinal motioned to nurse to keep her mouth shut. "I do know the Prince seems fond of you."

"I have no idea why he should be. To the best of my knowledge, I've never set eyes on him." Megan's tone worried Dinal. It was flat and emotionless. "I'd like to be left alone, please."

"I do understand it's a lot to take it, Lady Megan…"

"Don't call me that!" Megan snapped, with a brief flash of fire in her grey eyes. "I am just a human girl, stolen away without so much as a warning. I am no lady of the Fey. Please leave me alone."

"I'll have some food brought in. You must be hungry," Dinal motioned for the nurse to also leave the room. Megan made no reply.

"She doesn't seem to appreciate what you've done for her," the nurse commented once in the hallway. "It seems a waste of our time and your Talent…"

"Do not judge her harshly, Midea," Dinal shook his head. "She has been taken from all she knows. Put yourself in her place. Depression isn't surprising. We will have to keep an eye on her."

"Healer, is there news?" Mikkal himself came striding down the hall toward them. He was a pale youth with a mop of unruly curls falling over his eyes. The tight pants, high boots and blue coat might have looked better if he were slender, not rail thin. As it was, he looked like an affected fop, which Dinal very privately considered him to be.

"She is awake, Your Highness," Dinal nodded.

"Excellent!"

"But she needs time," Dinal cautioned.

"Time for what?" Mikkal demanded. "She has been here two weeks already. I have seen her, Dinal. There is no scaring…"

"On the outside," Dinal admitted. "Please, Your Highness. Keep in mind she is in a place she did not think she could step foot in, and everything she knew and loved before is gone."

"You're looking for trouble, Dinal. You'll see," Mikkal said confidently. "Once we get her out of this chamber, show her the wonders of Par Valon, she'll be fine. What woman doesn't dream of being a princess?" He headed for the door. Dinal stopped him.

"Please, Prince Mikkal. Give her a bit longer," the Healer requested. "She is trying to adjust to the changes, and she needs time alone to think."

"I will send a maid up with a tray for her," Midea wanted to be well away before Mikkal did see his little human awake. She rather had the idea Megan Lewis was not going to be happy with the young prince.

"She hasn't eaten yet?" Mikkal asked, as Midea hurried off.

"No, not yet," Dinal said. "She just woke, Your Highness."

"Then I will leave her to eat in peace, and visit her this afternoon," Mikkal decided. "And see to it she has some decent clothing." He turned on his heel and strolled off. Dinal released the breath it hadn't been aware he'd been holding.


	3. Chapter 3

12

**Chapter 2.**

Mikkal entered the chamber excitedly, eager to see which gown Megan had chosen to wear after her long convalescence. He had waited as long as he could, spending the time selecting gowns for his new beloved, discussing slippers and gloves with his mother's dresser, and wondering what colour Megan's eyes actually were. He'd never seen them up close.

He'd expected the room to be bathed in late afternoon sunlight when he entered. Instead, it was dim and gloomy, the velvet drapes still closed. The tray of food Midea had ordered sat cold and untouched on a table.

"What is this?" Mikkal demanded, opening the drapes with a flick of one hand. "Dinal said you were awake. Megan, are you awake?"

"I'm awake, I suppose." Megan's voice, dull and quiet, answered from the bed. "Who are you?"

"Your Prince Charming," he approached the bed, smiling winningly. "Come, Sleeping Beauty. 'Tis time to live your favourite fairytale."

"You must be joking," Megan turned her head to look at him. "I have always detested that story."

"Pick one, then," Mikkal sat down on the bed next to her. "Whichever you want, and we will live it together."

"How the hell old are you?" Megan demanded.

"I'm Fey, Megan. You don't want to know," he reached for the coverlet. Megan held the top edge firmly in her hands, and glared at him. "Come along, sweetheart. You haven't eaten yet, and you need to."

"I know the rules of Underhill," Megan stated. "If I eat or drink here, I can never go home."

"You cannot return to Above, Megan. You are dead to them," Mikkal said easily. "So you may as well eat."

"No."

"My dearest, don't be foolish. I have given you a chance few humans get," Mikkal went to the table and selected a piece of fruit. When he turned back to the bed, Megan was sitting up, the blankets firmly up around her. "Eat, and I will show you the frocks I sent up. We can walk in the garden…"

"I am dead to my family and friends and everything that means anything to me. But my soul is trapped **_here_**. Who gave you the right to make that decision for me?"

"Megan, I did it for us…" Mikkal began.

"Are you completely right in the head?" Megan asked. "There is no 'us'. You dragged me here, without asking, and now you seem to be under the impression you can order me around, and pick my clothes? I don't even know you, nor do I wish to! Get out."

"My palace…"

"Your father's palace. I know damn well that the ruler of Par Valon under Oberon is King Rois," she cut him off. "Leave me alone, Prince Mikkal." She curled down beneath the blankets, her back to him.

"You aren't even going to show me the least bit of gratitude for saving your life?" he demanded.

"I didn't ask you to save me, now did I?" Grey eyes blazing, Megan sat up again. "I do know how the land of Fey works, Mikkal of Par Valon! I am stuck here, without any hope of my soul continuing its journey, because **_you _**decided to play at being a god. And why? I never set eyes on you before today…"

"But I have been watching you," he informed her. "Your passion for the old stories, your fire, your zest for life…"

"My life is **_over_**!" She raged at him. "My life was Above! That is where I was born, where I lived, where I should have died! But no! The Prince of Par Valon saw….what? A new diversion? A pet? If you think I am going to let you dress me up and parade me around like some walking doll, you have another thought or three coming!"

"I want you to be my bride!" Mikkal snapped.

"You are bloody delusional! Even more than I am, for even thinking this is real," Megan wilted back against the pillows. "Get out of here and leave me the hell alone. Your face is the last thing I care to look at." Her face was ghost-white, and the fire in her eyes died. It was enough to send Mikkal out of the room, and looking for Dinal.

"Healer, there is something wrong with the Lady Megan," he entered the infirmary with a rapid pace. "You must go to her at once."

"What has happened?" Dinal demanded.

"She is acting irrationally," Mikkal informed him. "She will not eat, will not leave the bed. Something must be done!"

"I will see to her," Dinal promised. "I did tell you, Your Highness, she was not ready for company."

Mikkal couldn't answer. For one thing, he didn't have an answer, and for another, Dinal was already gone. Mikkal went in search of his mother instead.

"Ah, Mikkal," Jalina was beautiful in the ethereal manner of all High Born Fey females, her eyes bright sapphires, her hair raven wing black. "And how is your lady today?"

"Awake, but irrational," Mikkal pouted. "She isn't the least bit appreciative of the gift I have given her!"

"She is a human, Mikkal. They do not always see the benefits before them at first," Jalina comforted him. "And all women like to be wooed. You must woo her."

"Yes, I understand that," Mikkal nodded. "Fine clothes, pretty gifts, sweet words…"

"And time, Mikkal. It takes time to woo any female," Jalina smiled. "Just ask your father. I made him work for years to win me!" She laughed lightly.

"Years?" Mikkal groaned.

"Do you think her worth having?" Jalina challenged. "A bride is not a toy, Mikkal."

"Then I must make a better start of it than I have," Mikkal sighed. "You will help me, Mother?"

"Of course, my darling boy," Jalina promised. "Tomorrow, you must send her a single flower with her breakfast."

"A rose!"

"No, not a rose, not yet," Jalina shook her head. "Something small and dainty, perhaps…a daisy…."

"Very well, a daisy it will be," Mikkal smiled, and kissed her cheek. "You always make things so simple, Mother."

"Of course I do, darling. That's what mothers are for."


	4. Chapter 4

18

**Chapter 3**

Dinal was not surprised to find Megan staring at the wall. She gave no indication she heard him enter.

"Megan, what happened?" he asked gently. "A very irate prince just told me you are behaving irrationally."

"I told him off for dragging me here," Megan admitted. "I appreciate you did your job, Healer Dinal. But he had no right…"

"No, he didn't, in your eyes," Dinal agreed, reheating the cold soup. "In his eyes, he is the Prince of Par Valon, and has the right to do as he pleases. He sees something he wants, he takes it."

"I am a human being, not a plaything!"

"Glad to hear it," Dinal carried the soup to the bed. "Now, sit up and eat. If you want to leave this palace, you need your strength."

"I am dead to my world," Megan looked at him.

"Yes, you are. You would have been, regardless," the Healer nodded. "The question is, what will you do now? Seek a quick end? Your soul would still be trapped from the loop of human life Above. Or will you find some way of making a new life for yourself?"

"I will not take up with Mikkal, that is for damn sure!" She declared.

"That is your choice. But for you to have any choice, you must not give in to depression," he pointed out. "Eat. Healer's orders."

"Yes sir," Megan sighed, and sat up. "Starving myself would sort of being cutting of my nose to spite my face, wouldn't it?"

"Rather," he nodded.

Megan felt better after eating. She felt better the following morning, enough so that she actually got out of bed, and started looking through the wardrobe.

"Oh brother, is this guy missing a few cards," she muttered, looking at the fancy gowns of lawn and linen, silk and satins…almost all in the same pale blue shade. A shade Megan was not fond of to begin with, and was becoming less and less fond of as she looked.

"Good morning, my lady," a maid entered with a breakfast tray, and set it on the table. "Shall I ring for a bath to be brought up? I could wash your hair for you."

"It looks that bad, hu?" Megan asked. "Yes, please, only I can wash it myself."

"Those are lovely gowns, my lady," the maid pulled a bell rope by the door, then joined her at the wardrobe. "But, if you don't mind me saying…"

"They are so not me," Megan said it herself. "I don't do pastels much. What is your name?"

"I'm Lily, my lady," the little maid curtsied.

"I'm Megan, not 'my lady'," Megan stated. "Do me a favour? Find me a nice, plain, brown dress please."

"Plain brown? Not a nice violet, to set off your hair?"

"No, Lily. I do not want to set off anything," Megan stated firmly. "Something plain, brown, and comfortable, thanks."

Megan was wrapped in a robe, brushing her hair, when Lily came back with a plain brown dress and sensible shoes.

"Ah, thanks Lily," Megan began braiding her long reddish-brown hair. "That works, as long as it fits. I'm not really built like a Fey, when we're being honest about it."

"I got this from the dairymaid," Lily admitted. "That style is rather severe, miss. Maybe just…"

"The more severe, the better Lily," Megan commented, wrapping the braid into a bun and pinning it into place.

"Won't you at least wear the daisy tucked in?"

"No, since I am quite aware His Highness put it on the tray," Megan dropped the robe and pulled the dress on over her head. "I am not planning to encourage him. He's arrogant enough as it is!"

"Comes from being a prince, I expect," Lily shrugged.

"Possibly," Megan sat down to pull on some cotton stockings and the shoes. "I wouldn't know, I've never met any princes before. If they're all like this one, I'm just as glad. So tell me, who do the palace servants report to?"

"Miss?" Lily looked confused.

"Who gives you your work assignments for the day?" Megan asked.

"The housemaids go to Miz Ticia, miss," Lily replied. "The kitchen maids have to listen to Cook, the pageboys are under Wheems the butler."

"And who is most likely to need extra help?" Shoes on, Megan stood, shaking the skirts down straight.

"Usually, that'd be Cook or Jem Gardener, miss," Lily said, eyeing the human from Above a little worriedly.

"The gardener? Perfect! Come along, Lily. You can introduce me to Jem Gardener," Megan linked arms with the little Underhill human and headed out of the room.

"But…why?"

"Because it's time I started working off what I owe around here," Megan stated, as if Lily should have guessed. "I'm pretty handy in the gardens."

"But… His Majesty…"

"Let's get something straight right now, Lily," Megan said reasonably. "I am not about to take up with Prince Mikkal. I don't know that I will ever forgive him for what he's done to me. So, if you are part of His Highness's fan club, please save your gushing about him for those times I am not around to hear it."

"Anything you say, miss," Lily nodded, wondering how she was going to get out of this mess. "This way to Jem's workshop, miss."

Jem Gardener looked from Megan to Lily, back to Megan, then pulled Lily off to one side.

"Ain't she His Highness's new interest?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper. "He catches me letting her work out here, it'll be me neck!"

"Let her putter for now," Lily begged. "I'll go straight to Her Majesty, and get orders. I don't know what else to do, Jem! Honest!"

"Fine, but be quick about it," Jem grumbled. He turned around and walked back to Megan. "What is it I'm to call you, gal?"

"My name is Megan," Megan rolled her eyes. She had told the wizen little gnome that twice already. If he was that absent-minded, she could believe he couldn't keep help. "I'll answer to 'Gal' from you, if it's easier, Jem."

"Well, we'll see how you get on," he handed her a basket and a pair of shears. "The Queen likes her roses. Mind you only cut'em from the bushes outside that hedge there!"

"Full basket?" Megan inquired.

"Aye, then bring it to Miz Ticia, an' she'll get'em to Her Majesty's rooms," Jem nodded.

"Fine then. Lily, thank you for your help," Megan went off to the rose bushes.

"Move it quick, you. 'for His Highness finds her out here!" Jem ordered. Lily practically ran all the way to Jalina's morning room.

"Well Lily? How is the patient this morning?" Jalina asked, when Lily was brought before her.

"Up and about, Your Majesty," Lily said carefully. "She's out in the gardens, even."

"Wonderful!" Jalina smiled.

"She's asked Jem Gardener to put her to work," Lily reported, afraid to look at her mistress. "She wouldn't wear none of the dresses Prince Mikkal sent in for her…"

"Why on earth not? Mikkal has excellent taste!"

"Begging your pardon, mu'm, but he sent all pale blues, and they don't suit Lady Megan's colouring all that well," Lily shook her head.

"Well, what is she wearing?"

"A dairymaid's dress, mu'm," Lily was practically shaking in her shoes.

"Has this girl absolutely no appreciation for the finer things?" Jalina tilted her head a bit. Lily didn't make a sound. "Leave it with me, Lily. Make sure you get her to luncheon."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Lily curtsied and left the room.

"Claira, we need to see to the Lady Megan's wardrobe, and her rooms, personally," Jalina informed her personal attendant.

"Do you really think you can convince her to fall in with Prince Mikkal's plans, mu'm?" Claira asked doubtfully.

"Of course! What human girl, especially Above, does not dream of being romanced by a handsome and dashing Prince, living in a castle, and being able to leave the intense manual labour to someone else?"


	5. Chapter 5

26

**Chapter 4.**

"Miss, it's time to get cleaned up for lunch." Lily had to go looking for Megan. Jem, under orders from the Queen herself, had set the human girl to tending a bed of bluebells and lilies-of-the-valley.

"Already?" Megan looked up, surprised. "Very well. I need to speak to Miz Ticia about more suitable quarters, anyhow."

"Miss?" Lily's eyes went wide. The only better rooms in the palace belonged to the Royal family themselves!

"Gardening assistants don't live in rooms meant for princesses, Lily," Megan pointed out, gathering her tools. She didn't see the panicked look on Lily's face. "There must be a free bed somewhere among the other servants."

"You won't see Miz Ticia at lunch, Miss," Lily blurted.

"Oh? Oh well, I dare say I will find her at some point this afternoon. She is rather hard to miss," Megan hefted her basket to her hip. "And Lily, my name is Megan."

"Yes Miss, only do come along," Lily practically dragged her back into the palace, and straight up to the room she'd occupied since her arrival.

Only the room looked very different now. Gone were the pale blue velvet, and the mahogany furniture. Gold gauze-like curtains fluttered at the windows and hung from a coronet canopy over the white swan bed. Violet silk covered the bed and cushioned the chairs. A plush, dark purple carpet covered the floor. Megan took two steps into the room, groaned, and closed her eyes.

"It wasn't His Highness, Miss, honest," Lily said quickly, taking the gardening basket and setting it aside. "We really must hurry now. There's warm water to wash up, and I'll get you a clean dress." She only hoped she could find something Megan wouldn't object to too vehemently and would still meet the Queen's approval.

"Lily, what is going on?" Megan demanded, not moving.

"Oh please, Miss. DO hurry," Lily implored.

"I am not moving until you tell me why I must change for lunch. This dress isn't dirty."

"You're to have lunch with Her Majesty, Queen Jalina," Lily admitted. "In her private salon, and all. Please Miss, she'll be ever so cross with me if I don't have you there on time."

"This once, and for your sake only, Lily," Megan's tone was stern. "But Queen Jalina may not find my company to her liking." She washed quickly, and allowed Lily to slip the lavender gown over her head. She refused, however, to redo her hair, apply make-up, or wear any jewellery she didn't consider her own.

Lily was a nervous wreck by the time she ushered Megan into the Queen's presence. The salon was a garden room, its outer walls and ceiling made of glass, and full of flowering plants. An octagonal table was set for two with china so fine, light shone through even the teacups, and crystal that created mini-rainbows on the snowy white linen tablecloth. Megan curtsied to the woman already seated at the table.

"Stand up and let me look at you," Jalina ordered, not unkindly. Megan rose and stood quietly, her hands held together in front of her. "I did not realise how…drab… that frock actually was."

"It suits me, Your Majesty," Megan shrugged slightly.

"Suits you? You look more prim and proper than a governess!"

"I doubt if parents who spoil their children would care to employ me as such, Your Majesty," Megan met the woman's eyes squarely. "I love children, but I do believe in holding them accountable for their actions. I tend to be somewhat firm when teaching."

"And somewhat blunt when speaking," Jalina noted. "Sit down, Lady Megan." Megan remained standing. "I said, sit down Lady Megan."

"You…invited…Lady Megan to sit, Your Majesty," Megan stated. "That is not me. My name is Megan Lewis. If you must use a title, Miss Lewis would be the only one appropriate." Her voice was calm and non-confrontational. She was stating a fact, not trying to start a war.

"Miss Lewis, sit down," Jalina instructed. "There is definitely nothing wrong with your thought process or your wit." Megan sat across from her. "Now, my son tells me you are a scholar?"

"A student," Megan corrected. "I am…I was working on my Masters Degree in Folklore and Mythology."

"Not a popular area of study for Above. What would you have done with such a degree?"

"Teach and write," Megan replied. "It hardly matters now."

"You must admit, such a background is extremely well-suited to adjusting to life here," Jalina said pleasantly.

"If I were willing to adjust, probably."

"I cannot understand why you would not be."

"You were not brought here without being asked, Your Majesty," Megan pointed out.

"You would have died. Would you really have preferred that?"

"Death is not an end, it is just another arc on the Great Circle of Life," Megan shrugged. "If it was my time, it was my time. Your son did not have the right to change that, especially not without asking my permission."

"His heart dictated his actions, Megan. Can you not forgive him his impetuousness in such a case?"

"Maybe someday, Your Majesty. But I would advise against him, or you, holding your breath until I do," Megan said honestly.

"I would have expected some romance in your soul, given your field of study," Jalina began eating. Only then did Megan do as well. It gave her a good excuse not to comment on the romance remark. "Perhaps we could strike a bargain."

"What sort of bargain, Your Majesty?" Megan asked cautiously.

"Give Mikkal a chance. If, in one month, you honestly don't feel any softening in your heart towards him, you may leave the palace and seek whatever life you can find elsewhere in the Realm of the Fey," Jalina replied.

"In the meantime?"

"Allow Mikkal to woo you in his own way…"

"No," Megan shook her head.

"And why not?"

"I will not have anyone dictating to me what I should wear, what I should do, or how I should feel," Megan stated. "Quite frankly, Your Majesty, I do not trust your son not to use magic, enchantment or tricks to achieve his goals. Come right down to it, and I honestly don't trust you not to, either."

"You must have gotten extremely good marks in that university of yours," Jalina sighed wryly. Megan had her and Mikkal pegged there, and she had to admit it. "I give you my Oath. No magic, no enchantment, no potions. You may decorate your rooms to suit yourself, you may dress to suit yourself and the occasion, you may putter in the garden, or help in the schoolroom. All I ask in return is one fair month."

"And will your son adhere to your Oath, Your Majesty?" Megan challenged. Fey Oaths were not given lightly, she knew. She also knew that one Fey was not bound automatically by the word of another, not even of a parent. She would not be trapped so easily.

Jalina sighed again, picked up a little silver bell, and shook it gently. Mikkal appeared at the side of the table.

"You wished to see me, Mother?" he inquired politely. Then he noticed Megan, sitting across from Jalina. "Megan, my dear girl! Your hair is much too pretty to be dressed so severely." He flicked his fingers, and her hair tumbled lose over her shoulders. Megan glared, her lips thinning.

"No magic, Mikkal," Jalina said. "I have given Megan my Oath that there will be no magic, no enchantments, no potions used to soften her heart against her will. In exchange, she will grant you one month to do so on your own merit."

"Provided you give the same Oath as your mother," Megan warned.

"Very well, you have my word…" Mikkal began.

"Not your word, Prince Mikkal. Your Oath, stated in detail," Megan stated.

"You have my Oath, Megan. I will use no magic, no potions, no enchantments to win your heart…"Mikkal was so smug, it made Megan suspicious.

"OR any other part of me, Your Highness!" She said sharply.

"IS this really necessary?" Mikkal demanded. She just looked at him. "Blast it, woman! I, Mikkal of Par Valon, do give my Oath to you, Megan Lewis, that I shall use no magic, no potions, no enchantments to win your heart or influence you against your will in anyway. Is that good enough?"

"That will do nicely, thank you," Megan nodded. He still looked so damned arrogantly confident, she wanted to slap the smirk of his face. She had managed to limit him to 'normal' tricks, but she'd dealt with those kinds before.

"Then you have one month," she informed him. "At the end of which, I leave this palace without any hindrances."

"If you have not changed your mind and heart about leaving me," Mikkal smiled. Megan said nothing. As far as she was concerned, Mikkal was a spoiled brat with the mentality of a hormone-driven sixteen-year-old boy. Megan hadn't found boys of that age even remotely interesting since she'd been about twelve. "Now we have that settled," Mikkal conjured a chair and a place setting, and joined them. "I am sure there is a riding habit in your wardrobe, Megan. After lunch, we'll go riding."

"I do not ride, Your Highness," Megan stated.

"Then I shall teach you," he promised. "It's really quite easy, you know. I am amazed you haven't learned before now."

"Growing up as one of five children, in a large city, my chances were non-existent," she shrugged. She managed to remain polite for the rest of the meal, but it took a toll. By the time the last dish was cleared away, she had a pounding headache.

"Go change into your riding things, Megan," Mikkal instructed.

"I have a headach, Your Highness. The only place I am going right now is in search of Healer Dinal for something for it," Megan rose from her seat, and curtsied to Jalina. "You will excuse me, Your Majesty." She didn't wait for Jalina to speak this time, she fled the room.

"She has grace and wit, and she is certainly intelligent," Jalina commented. "We shall have to work on the charm and manners a bit."

"But you do like her, don't you Mother?" Mikkal asked.

"She will make a very suitable wife, one not easily swayed or mislead," Jalina nodded. "Besides," she smiled dotingly at her son. "If she makes you happy, how could I not like her?"


	6. Chapter 6

34

**Chapter 5.**

To Megan, that month dragged. Every morning, there was some new flower on her breakfast tray. She gave up trying to help in the classroom in the first two weeks, because Mikkal would show up when he pleased and disrupted everyone's lessons. He dogged her movements in the gardens, and she'd taken to keeping at least Lily with her when travelling in the palace. Some of the servants actually went out of their way to help her, applauding her for 'knowing her place'. Others went out of their way to tell Mikkal where she was at any given time.

It wasn't as if she bothered trying to avoid him. She'd made a deal, and she'd honour it to the best of her ability. That meant the riding lessons, and meals, and even a dance in her honour. She'd listened to Mikkal for hours. Unfortunately, the things Mikkal talked about bored her to tears. The riding lessons were a disaster, because Mikkal was no teacher…he just used any excuse to get his hands on her. She'd taken to keeping her chamber door locked, after he'd tried the direct approach of climbing into bed with her in the middle of the night.

"Two more days…not even!" Megan ticked off another day on her hand-drawn calendar. "At noon tomorrow, Lily, I am free!"

"Yes, my lady," Lily set out a sunny yellow dress for the day ahead. She liked Megan, and hated having to basically spy on her for Jalina. "But where will you go?"

"Anywhere away from here!" Megan replied. "You and Dinal will be the only two I really miss."

"I hear Lady Telessa's looking to hire a new maid," Lily began hesitantly. Megan knew Lily had to report to Jalina. She hoped it meant Megan would be suspicious now. "Tallenho's a bit north of here."

"I've never been a maid before, but I've done plenty of housework," Megan said thoughtfully. "I suppose it won't hurt to check it out. The worse they could do is laugh in my face. And it'd be a good honest job if I could get it."

"Yes, my lady."

"Oh, don't look so glum, Lily! I'll be fine, and I'll be well away from Prince Mikkal!"

It was a fine day, and Megan was in a good mood. Her mind and heart had not changed, despite all the tricks, the gifts, and the almost-possessive attention Mikkal had rained down on her head for a month. Actually, she rather felt those things were **_why_** she hadn't changed her mind.

"Merecat, come back!" A young voice, filled with anguish, caught her attention, and she realized she could hear another child crying. "Naughty kitty! Come out here!" Megan followed the sounds. Three of Cook's granddaughters were hovering anxiously near the entrance of the hedged garden. In a month, Megan had not so much as poked her nose over the gate. Jem had told her it was off limits because it was dangerous, and she'd left it at that.

"You girls shouldn't be sp close to the hedge," Megan said, setting her basket down, and lifting the youngest girl in her arms. "What's wrong, sweetie?" The little one only cried more.

"Merecat went through the gate," the eldest girl explained. "We can hear his crying, but he won't come out when we call him!"

"He probably got himself stuck," Megan guessed. "If you can hear him, he can't be too far in. I'll go fetch the little furball out." She set down the child, and took her pruning shears from her basket.

"But Lady Megan, you can't! No one goes into the Old Queen's Garden!" Eyes wide, they all stared at her.

"I know it isn't safe, but we can't abandon Merecat, now can we? He's just a kitten," Megan smiled. "You wait here. I won't be long."

The gate was old, but not locked, and Megan opened it with little difficulty. Inside, the hedge was so thick, it formed a short corridor before spilling into the twisted remains of an ancient garden. Megan shivered. Not only was it colder in here, and dim, the place felt depressed and depressing. She told herself to stop imagining things, and called out to the kitten. A pitiful little meow answered her, and she spotted the feline trapped by the thorny canes of an old rose bush.

"Silly little fur ball," Megan crooned softly, kneeling as close as she could. She kept talking as she cut canes with thorns the size of her pinkie nail, wishing she'd brought her gloves as well as her shears. "Come on, Merecat. The girls are frantic."

When she reached under the bush to grab the kitten, thorns snagged the sleeve of her dress, and got tangled in her hair. She even felt one dig into her arm from the elbow to the wrist as she pulled the kitten to her.

"Damn, that hurts!" She gasped, cradling the kitten and reaching for her shears. "So many thorns, and not a single rose? Plant, you should be ashamed of yourself." But there was a rose now. One single, perfect, blood-red blossom unfurled before her eyes. "Cat, we are so out of here!" Megan hurried back to the gate, striving to ignore the scent of that one rose. She was shaking and pale when she cleared the hedge, but she smiled at the girls as she handed over Merecat.

"One kitten, lesson learned," she declared. "But keep him and yourselves well away from here from now on."

"Lady Megan, you're hurt," one of the girls pointed to the ruined, bloodied sleeve of her dress.

"It's just a bad scratch. It will heal," Megan assured them. "Go on now. It's nearly time for your lunch." She dropped the shears into her basket, shooed the girls off, and went to her room. She was going to have to clean up and change before her own lunch with Mikkal.

"Oh my lady! What happened?" Lily demanded, seeing the ruined dress, the blood, and the tangled hair.

"I had a fight with a bramble bush," Megan replied. "This dress is a complete loss, I'm afraid. Find me something to wear to lunch, please. I need to was my arm and brush my hair."

"Your arm…"

"It's just a scratch, Lily. I'm fine," Megan said firmly. "One of the green dresses, please."

She went to lunch with a bandaged arm, and her hair in a simple braid down her back.

"You'd look so stunning, draped with diamonds…" Mikkal smiled as she entered the salon.

"Diamonds are a very cold stone. I've never much liked them," Megan stated. "Where is the queen?"

"Having lunch with my father," Mikkal held the chair out for her. "You do have less severe dresses, Megan. I know you do."

"I wear what pleases me, Your Highness," she shrugged off the hand that rested on her shoulder.

"Not once in a month have you called me by my name," he mourned, taking his own seat.

"That is untrue, Prince Mikkal. There, I have just done so again," Megan eyed the table. Strawberries, oysters, white wine, chocolates…he was almost out of time, and knew it. "This isn't a lunch, it's a desperate ploy at seduction."

"I could just force you."

"You've tried that, which is why I keep my chamber locked," she replied tartly. "You aren't a very good loser."

"I don't like losing."

"No one does, but it happens." Megan poured herself a glass of water. Fey wine was too much for her, and she knew it. "You may as well get set, because you do lose, come noon tomorrow."

"A lot can happen in twenty-four hours."

"I suppose, but I sincerely doubt anything could happen to make me change my mind about you," she began eating, and ignored him for the rest of the meal.

That night, her arm throbbed, and she didn't sleep well. She refused to let it bother her.

"What shall you wear today, my lady?" Lily asked, setting the breakfast tray on the table. A bird-of-paradise sat amid a dozen red roses. Megan snorted. They didn't compliment each other very well.

"I've already set my dress for today out," she informed the maid.

"But…but that's the dairymaid's uniform!" Lily protested.

"Yes it is. I have no idea what happened to my own clothes, but I rather expect they were shredded to rags by the glass," Megan said. "How far is it to Tallenho?"

"A full day on foot," Lily replied. "But there's a delivery cart going after lunch. He'll be there by dark."

"See if I can catch a ride, would you please?" Megan requested. "I will be ready to leave in an hour."

"You can't! I forbid it!" Mikkal exploded at lunch. Megan had just informed him and Jalina their month was up, and she was leaving.

"I can," Megan said flatly. "We had a deal, and you lost. End of story."

"Where will you go, Megan?" Jalina asked calmly.

"I'd rather not say, Your Majesty," Megan replied. "But you needn't worry about me."

"You never gave me a fair chance!" Mikkal accused. "And I'll prove it!" He yanked her from her chair, and kissed her, forcing her lips to open under pressure.

Megan kneed him in the groin. When he released her, she slapped him with all the force she could muster. She didn't really need to hit him so hard. The shock of being first kneed where it hurt most, then being slapped at all, was enough to leave Mikkal speechless.

"You are, beyond a doubt, a spoiled, arrogant brat!" Megan snapped. "It's well beyond time you learned we don't always get what we want. Good bye, Your Majesty." She was so angry, she didn't bother to curtsy before she left the room.

"She hit me!" Mikkal looked at it his mother. "Gods, what fire she's hiding under those prim hairstyles, and oh-so-proper clothes! I can't let her leave, Mother."

"For now, you must," Jalina stated firmly. "Be easy, Mikkal. She isn't going far. She'll be at Tallenho by nightfall, employed as a maid by Telessa. In a week or two, when you just happen to ride that way, you'll find Megan much more appreciative of what you can offer her."

"Mother, you are a genius!"

"I know, dear. Now, be a good boy, and have the table cleared."


	7. Chapter 7

42

**Chapter 6.**

After just two days at Tallenho, Megan wondered what she'd gotten herself into. She was taken on as a scullery maid. Fair enough, she was new, she wasn't trained or anything. But they grey smock had seen several owners previous to her, and it was worn and not mended all that well, Cook was consistently threatening to chop off her hair, and not a single person even attempted to be friendly. On top of all this, she wasn't allowed a clean bandaged for the gouge on her arm, and she was afraid it might get infected.

"I thought I told you to scrub them porridge pots?" Cook demanded, waving a wooden spoon like a weapon.

"I did," Megan stated, pointing at the row of pots hanging from the ceiling. "I got every last bit of crap out of them, too. What's next?"

Cook sniffed, and pointed to a small mountain of pans. With a sigh, Megan set to work. In her family, there had always been a lot of dishes to wash, but this was ridiculous. Not even her brothers had burnt so much food **_into_** pots!

But the end of the first week, she was sure her arm was infected, she was ready to beat Cook with a frying pan, and she'd taken to wearing her class ring sewn into the bodice of her dress…someone had managed to steal her diamond studs right out of her ears in her sleep. Complaining did no good. No one wanted to hear it.

One thing she hadn't realized was how cold it could get in the Fey kingdoms, or that winter fell here like it did once upon a time in New York…early and hard. She had one thin blanket and a pallet on the floor in the kitchen itself. Usually, she managed to stay warm by sleeping close to the night hearth, the two spit dogs curled against her back.

That ended the morning Megan wasn't awake early enough to avoid being seen by Cook.

"What do you think you're doing, you wretched girl?" Cook kicked her, catching the injured arm. Megan bit back a scream, and scrambled to her feet. "Sleeping with flea-bitten curs! You'll have fleas in the pots, you will!"

"Neither dog has fleas, or they'd have gotten into the food well before this!" Megan snapped, cradling her arm. "Of course, that may be an improvement on your cooking, but I wouldn't know. All I get is what no one else wants."

"Excuse me, Cook, but Her Ladyship wants to see the new girl." The butler announced.

"Good! Get her out of my kitchen, and don't you let her come back, Mr. Rhys!" Cook warned. "I won't have her in here again!"

Megan wasn't given time to clean up or re-braid her hair. Rhys the butler escorted her firmly to the front of the grand mansion. Megan had only seen Lady Telessa once, the day she'd arrived, and that had been some sort of inspection. She had no idea what the mistress wanted to see her for now.

When she saw who was with Telessa, she stopped and glared.

"Hello Megan," Mikkal smirked. "Ready to reconsider?"

"You must be joking," Megan said flatly.

"You honestly prefer slaving away over pots and pans, sleeping on the floor, wearing rags, to what I can give you?" Mikkal asked, shaking his head. "I know you're stubborn, darling. Don't be foolish."

"How did you know where I was?"

"Mother arranged it all."

"Oh really?" Megan glanced at Telessa, who couldn't meet her eye. "I see." She turned and walked out, not bothering to acknowledge either of them.

"I'll dismiss her, without a reference," Telessa said. "With winter coming in hard, she will have no choice but to go back to the palace."

"Make sure she has a bath and clean clothes, and I will wait," Mikkal said. "I really don't want her to have to walk back. The weather is so unpredictable lately."

But Megan had not gone back to the kitchen. She'd stalked past a confused Rhys, out the front door, and just kept walking. She was soon hidden by the falling snow.

"Rhys!" Telessa called.

"Yes, my lady?" Rhys hurried back into the room.

"Inform Megan I consider her unsuitable to continue in the kitchens, and she need not bother asking for a reference, because she won't get one," Telessa instructed. "Then turn her over to Marigold…"

"I can't do that, my lady," Rhys shook his head.

"Why can't you?"

"Because, apparently, Megan has quit."

"She can't quit!" Telessa frowned.

"I'm sorry Lady Telessa, but she's gone," Rhys said helplessly. "She walked right out the front door and kept going. The snow has already hidden her tracks."

"Send men after her, you blazing idiot!" Mikkal commanded. "And they don't find her, I will take it out of your hide!"

But the riders didn't find her. Megan hadn't stayed on the road. With the snow already falling, and the wind blowing, and having no cloak, she'd taken to the forest, in hopes of avoiding the worst of the storm.

She lost track of time, and the light never seemed to really change. Her arm throbbed, burning even as the rest of her trembled with the cold. She wasn't sure she could feel her feet. Well, she was supposed to be dead. She didn't consider any of this to be real. So maybe, she was actually dying now, and her mind was just generating images to go along with the process.

She stumbled over something under the snow, and went down with a cry.

"Here now. Ain't a fit day for little birds to be out," a rough voice said in gentle tones as she was carefully lifted from the snow. "Poor child! Just look at you. You just leave it to ol' Dickon, now. We'll soon have you in the warm, and seen to." She was wrapped in something thick and soft, and carried away through the trees.

She wasn't sure how long she'd slept…or just plain been unconscious. When she opened her eyes, she was in a cupboard bed, warm and comfortable. Her arm still hurt like hell, but it had been re-bandaged.

"Ah, you're awake," a woman smiled. "You must be hungry, child."

"A bit," Megan admitted. "How long have I been here?"

"Since yesterday afternoon. I'll be right back."

Megan managed to sit up a bit. From the limited view, the cupboard bed was tucked in on one side of a large fireplace. The cottage didn't appear to be very large: the room she faced was obviously used for cooking and family time. The furniture looked old, but sturdy and well-loved and comfortable. No place had ever looked so much like heaven to Megan.

"It's a bad storm," the woman returned with a bowl of stew and a chunk of fresh bread. "It's a good thing my Dickon found you, and he did not a minute too soon! What by all that's sacred were you doing out in weather like this, with no cloak and no boots?"

"Trying to get as far away from Tallenho as I could," Megan replied. "Thank you. This stew smells delicious. My name is Megan Lewis, by the way."

"My name is Rosa," the woman smiled. "My husband, Dickon, is a forester for the High King. As for Tallenho, you certainly got a fair distance from it. But why were you running away? Our girl, Daisy, works there. She says it's a very good place to work."

"Do you also have a daughter named Lily?" Megan asked.

"Yes, she's a maid at the royal palace of Par Valon," Rosa nodded. "Well-liked, too."

"Oh dear," Megan sighed. She told Rosa the entire story between bites of bread and mouthfuls of stew.

"Oh dear, you poor child!" Rosa exclaimed. "Mikkal has always been a bit silly and spoiled, but I can't believe his father would let him get away with something like this. Lady Telessa does anything Queen Jalina tells her to do. Don't worry now, Megan. You aren't in Par Valon anymore, and Mikkal has no authority in Avalon. He can't force you to go back from here."

"I'll have to go somewhere I can find a job," Megan finished the last of the stew.

"You can't go anywhere in this storm, or with your arm in such a state," Rosa said firmly. "Whoever heard of using rose petals on a thorn scratch? You will stay with us for now, and I won't hear any arguments. Later on, Dickon can take you to Yns Ays. There is always work to be found there. And Mikkal, although he goes there to Court, cannot harass you there. Oberon won't allow it."

"Thank you, Rosa," Megan yawned.

"Sleep, Megan. That's the best medicine for you right now."

Megan found herself enjoying her stay with Rosa and Dickon. The cottage was actually roomy and comfortable. Rosa wouldn't let her push herself, but she did allow her to help as much as possible. Her left arm did not seem to be healing. Twice a day, Rosa cleaned it, confused by finding more rose petals than blood. Every other day, they soaked it in warm salt water. The gash remained opened and ugly.

"When Dickon takes you to Yns Ays, you must see a Fey Healer," Rosa instructed, her dark eyes full of concern. "No ordinary rose made this cut, Megan. It is beyond human healing."

She'd been with the couple for two weeks, and was beginning to feel safe. That sense of peace was shattered by the arrival of a trio of riders.

Megan was bringing milk in from the barn one morning and groaned when she saw Mikkal leading the other two into the yard. He was looking around with that air of arrogance and contempt that made her teeth ache.

"Megan!" He spotted her before she could melt back into the barn, and swung down from his horse. "My dearest, you look ill!"

"I was feeling better, until just now," Megan snapped. "Excuse me, Prince Mikkal. Rosa is waiting for the milk." She made to step around him. Mikkal grabbed her injured arm, sending fire racing through it. The milk spilt into the snow as Megan practically collapsed.

"Take your hands off her!" Dickon ordered, racing out of the barn. He pulled Megan away from the Mikkal and helped her stand.

"How dare you speak to **_me_** in such a manner?" Mikkal demanded angrily. "Do you know who I am?"

"We aren't in Par Valon, Prince Mikkal. I answer to Oberon," Dickon replied. "You've hounded this girl enough."

"Do not push me, old man," Mikkal warned. "I've come for Lady Megan, and I will take her, if I have to burn this sorry hovel to the ground to do so!"

A memory stirred in Megan's pain-wracked mind. Something she'd read for class about the workings of Oberon's Court.

"By the magic of Avalon, I wish to take my case to Oberon himself!" She declared. As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she vanished.

"Who told her how to do that?" Mikkal glared at Dickon.

"The girl studied before you dragged her from kith and kin, hearth and home," Rosa was standing in the doorway of the cottage. "Go see if you can take her away from Oberon's Court, Mikkal of Par Valon. You mother cannot help you there. And think twice before burning this place. Dickon is one of Oberon's foresters, and you know how the High King feels about anyone messing with his servants."


	8. Chapter 8

48

**Chapter 7.**

Megan landed on her hands and knees on a marble floor, her head spinning, and her stomach threatening to let everything in it out again. The landing had jarred her injured arm, and she couldn't keep back the cry of pain it tore from her.

"Easy lass," a voice murmured softly, as gentle hands helped her stand, and continued to support her. Megan was used to feeling short, but the uniformed Fey at her side towered over her by at least a foot. She blinked, trying to catch her breath and focus. The room she was in was some sort of grand hall, decorated for the Midwinter Festival. She was surrounded by a glittering array of Fey and Elf, dryad, nymph, faun, pixie, sprite and even human. None were more compelling than the two couples standing on the dais at the end of the room.

"Who is this, sprung unbidden in the midst of our revels?" One of the men there demanded. Tall and royal, dressed in velvet robes of deep green trimmed with ermine, he could only be Oberon, High King of all Fey.

"Fallen, not sprung, Father," the younger male there commented in mild amusement. "Human, by the look of things."

"Something you've not mentioned to me, my lord?" One of the two queens demanded archly. She seemed to be dressed in a gown made of frost and starlight. It hurt Megan's eyes to look at her.

"I have never seen her before, my dear," Oberon shook his head. "Well, Human child? Speak up!"

"Take your hands off her!"

Megan groaned at the sound of Mikkal's voice. How had he followed so quickly? Dickon's cottage was miles away.

"If I do so, Prince Mikkal, I fear she will fall again," the man at her side stated. There was a slight edge to his voice that hadn't been there a few moments ago. One strong arm went around her waist, and Megan clung to him gratefully.

"My name is Megan Lewis," she lifted her head to face Oberon directly. "I wish Oberon, Lord of Avalon and High King of all Fey, to hear my case against Mikkal, Prince of Par Valon."

"Oh this should be interesting," the tall blonde who'd called Oberon 'Father' said with a smirk. Jareth, the Goblin King, Megan guessed.

"You have no case against me, Megan," Mikkal tried to pull her away from her self-appointed protector. "My Lord King, my Lady Megan is ill, and delusional…"

"I'd have to be more than delusional to let you touch me!" Megan snapped. "You're nothing but a common kidnapper!"

"Where do you come from, Megan Lewis?" Oberon asked.

"Originally, from a place Above called Clifton Park, Your Majesty," Megan hoped she could get out the entire story in a coherent manner before she passed out. "That is where Mikkal of Par Valon stole me from."

"You stole a human from Above, Mikkal?" Oberon stared hard at the prince.

"I claimed a bride from Above," Mikkal corrected. "The same as the Goblin King did. I saved her life by bringing her here."

"Did she **_ask_** to be taken away?" Jareth demanded.

"Not in so many words…"

"Did she or didn't she?"

"I did not!" Megan announced.

"Do not claim you did as I did, Mikkal. Both times my Queen entered my kingdom, she did so of her own choice," Jareth snapped, glaring at Mikkal angrily. "I do **_not_** steal humans, boy!"

"Mikkal, stop trying to get to the girl," Tatiana, Oberon's Queen, ordered sternly, seeing the captain holding Megan up was practically dancing to keep her from Mikkal's grasp. "She seems to prefer Captain Devon's aide to yours, and I personally do not blame her."

"Jareth, she's on the point of collapse," Sarah spoke softly; only Jareth could hear her. "Can't all of this wait?"

"Unfortunately not," Jareth shook his head slightly. "The girl apparently wished herself here, much as you wished yourself and the children to me."

"Tell me your story, Megan Lewis," Oberon spoke kindly.

"Two months ago, by your reckoning of such things, I was involved in an accident Above. I should have died. Mikkal of Par Valon, without asking, without any indications I'd agree, carried me to his father's palace, and bade the Healer there keep me alive. He'd gotten it into his head, once I'd recovered, I'd marry him."

"Sarah married Jareth!" Mikkal stated loudly.

"Sarah was in love with Jareth before returning to the Goblin Kingdom," Sarah herself announced firmly. "Be quite, you!"

"I take it your gratitude did not extend so far," Oberon said.

"I wasn't even all that grateful, Your Majesty," Megan admitted.

"Visions of heaven?" Jareth asked sardonically.

"Hardly," Megan started to shake her head, and stopped as a wave of dizziness hit. "I am Pagan. I believe in the reincarnation of my soul. Mikkal has taken my soul out of the realms of men. His interference has denied my soul its rights."

"Megan, I'd make you a good husband…" Mikkal began.

"You? You contemptible, arrogant, conceited little twit!" Megan snorted. She could have sworn the captain holding her chuckled. "Your Majesty, I accept the fact I cannot return to Above. Most I be hounded throughout the lands of the Fey? I made a bargain. I gave him one month to convince me to stay with him. If he failed, I would be free to leave…"

"You did leave!"

"Shut up, Mikkal!" Sarah ordered. She'd only met Mikkal once before, but she considered him to be more childish than Toby. Right now, she wanted Megan to be able to get through her testimony before she passed out.

"I walked into a set-up, engineered by Queen Jalina and Lady Telessa," Megan drew a shaky breath. "The life of a servant is not easy, but it should not have been what my two weeks at Tallenho were. I was deliberately mistreated, stolen from, and denied medical care in an attempt to drive me back to the palace and Mikkal. I refused. I ran away instead. In a blizzard, with no cloak, no boots, and only a thin, patched dress. Dickon, one of your foresters, King Oberon, found me, and he and his wife took me into their home. This morning, Mikkal tracked me to their cottage. When they wouldn't just hand me over, he threatened to burn them out." Oberon's eyes blazed, and several guards hurried out of the hall. Megan hoped they were going to check on Dickon and Rosa. She was worried about her friends.

"Mikkal, you have gone to far this time." There was no doubt Oberon was angry. "You steal a human woman, try to force her to your will, and threaten my servants? I will not have it!"

That was the last Megan heard. Her story was out, Rosa and Dickon would be checked on, and helped. With a little groan, she passed out. Only Devon's strong arm around her waist kept her from hitting the floor.

"Get that poor child to a Healer," Tatiana ordered. Jareth and Sarah were already half way to Devon's side. In the blink of an eye, the four vanished.

"Escort this boy to a room," Oberon ordered. "And get Rois, Jalina and Telessa here!"

"Jareth steals a mortal bride, and gets away with it, but when I do the same, I am censored?" Mikkal demanded. "That's not fair!"

"Guard your tongue!" Oberon roared. "Clear this room!"

"What an interesting start to Midwinter," Tatiana remarked, sitting down on her throne. "Oberon, did you happen to notice anything…unusual about Megan Lewis?"

"I noticed she could barely stand, and was as pale as death."

"Other than that," Tatiana said. "Her arm is injured, bleeding. Yet look. Not blood, but roses." She pointed to the petals on the floor where Megan had been standing.

"Where the devil could she have gotten a thorn from a blood rose?" Oberon frowned, kneeling to pick up a few of the petals. "They vanished centuries ago."

"Where she got it is only of secondary importance at the moment, my love," Tatiana said gravely. "Only one human in a hundred survives the changes they cause."

"And she was already close to death," Oberon nodded slowly. "We will have to watch her carefully."


	9. Chapter 9

55

**Chapter 8.**

Megan opened her eyes, and felt a moment of pure panic crash into her. She was in a four poster mahogany bed, hung with pale blue velvet.

"Easy Megan," a gentle hand came to rest on her forehead. "You're safe. You're in Yns Ays."

"Mikkal had a room done fore me in pale blue velvet," Megan muttered. "I hate it!"

"No blue velvet, then. How about a nice rose?" The drapes changed. Megan turned her head, and looked into a pair of deep green eyes set in a beautiful face framed by black curls. "I'm Sarah, Lady of the Labyrinth and Goblin Queen."

"I don't remember any mention of a Goblin Queen," Megan frowned. "High Queen, fairy queen, dryad queen, fey queens…"

"You've studied."

"I was working on my Masters in Folklore and Mythology," Megan nodded.

"My story hasn't really hit human lore yet. Probably won't for another century or two," Sarah shrugged slightly. "I've only been married to Jareth a little less than a year."

"That would explain it, I guess."

"Clifton Park is in New York, isn't it?" Sarah asked.

"How did you know? Study humans, do you?" Megan teased.

"I was born human," Sarah replied. "Jareth would have accepted me as human, but the Labyrinth had other ideas. So did the queen of the fairy swarm there. Word of warning, Megan. Not everything beautiful here is good, and not everything ugly is bad…"

"I'm young, Your Majesty, not stupid."

"Please, call me Sarah. At least in private," Sarah requested.

"I see someone's had a look at my arm," Megan noted the clean bandage, and the fact her arm wasn't burning anymore.

"Yes, about that," Sarah grew very serious. "Where were you when you hurt it, Megan?"

"Why? Is it important?"

"Oberon would like to know."

"They call it the Old Queen's Garden," Megan replied. "It's all hedged in , in the middle of the royal gardens at Rois's palace in Par Valon. I wasn't supposed to be in there, but one of the kittens went in, and the little ones were frantic."

"They took a thorn out of the gash…"

"What, another one? I took out two the day it happened, and Rosa pulled out a third, the day Dickon took me home with him," Megan grimaced. "You'd think I wouldn't have missed any the first time, considering the damn things are an inch long."

"Have you noticed anything …odd, since it happened?" Sarah asked.

"It's not healing. It seems to bleed, but…"Megan bit her lip.

"But?"

When I unwrap the bandages, they're full of rose petals, not blood," Megan looked a bit frightened. "Rosa said I had to see a Fey Healer, because it was beyond human knowing or curing."

"It is beyond human knowing. It is also beyond Fey healing," Sarah said carefully. "The thorn came from a Blood Rose. They're practically non-existent anymore. Old magic, I'm told."

"So what is going to happen to me?" Megan managed to ask. She was surprised how normal her voice sounded. A result of the madness she was spiralling even further into, maybe.

"We don't know. It causes…changes…" Sarah told her. "Fey tend to become elementals, that sort of thing. Tatiana told me not many humans survive."

"So I die anyhow," Megan sighed. "When will we know?"

"When your arm heals. I have to say, you're taking this all pretty calmly. I wasn't so…placid about the changes I went through."

"I decided when I woke up at Par Valon two months ago, I'd already lost my mind," Megan shrugged. "What's one more piece of madness?"

"I remember my first visit to the Goblin Kingdom," Sarah smiled. "I kept alternating between 'it can't be real', and 'that's not fair'. When I finally took Toby and went home, I didn't say a single word about any of it to anyone."

"You beat the Labyrinth?"

"Yup! Well, sort of," Sarah amended ruefully. "I forgot the rule about not eating in the lands of Fey. On the whole, it's just as well I did. The Labyrinth heard me when Jareth wasn't in a mood to."

"The Labyrinth heard you?" Megan looked at her in disbelief. "Now I know I've lost it."

"No, honestly, you haven't," Sarah assured her. "It's a long story. I'll tell you, if you come hear it where it all happened."

"The Goblin Kingdom? Sure, why not?" Megan shrugged. "Seeing how I am currently unemployed and homeless, the Goblin Kingdom is just as good as anyplace to wait for the damned rose to finish me off."

"That's a very negative attitude," Sarah commented.

"And here I thought I was being funny," Megan closed her eyes. "It's probably just as well I leave Oberon's Court, or I'd be tempted to flirt with that nice Captain. It wouldn't do to get some Fey female pissed off at me, I'm sure."

"Captain Devon?" Sarah grinned. Devon had, in Jareth's view, been much too smug since Oberon's very public blessing of Jareth and Sarah's marriage. He could use a woman in his own life. And if it gave Megan a reason to cling to life, rather than look forward to death… "He is currently unattached."

"Are all the women around here blind?" Megan demanded, her eyes snapping open. "Or is he gay?"

"Neither, he just doesn't seem interested in the women batting their lashes at him lately," Sarah responded. "Captain Devon prefers his women able to stand on their own feet, for those times he cannot be right there for them."

"Most females can do that, they just get indoctrinated to believe the males need to feel superior," Megan stated.

"Those are males with frail egos," Sarah snorted. "Jareth, for example, prefers to **_know_** he is superior, the arrogant thing!"

"But you love him."

"Yes, I do. He's the other half of me," Sarah admitted with a soft smile. "Arrogance and all, and there are times we go several rounds before kissing and making up. But the making up is so worth it!"

"Do I have to stay in bed?"

"Well, until we leave for the Goblin Kingdom, you are supposed to rest," Sarah said consideringly. "But it would be a shame if you missed all the sights here. Tatiana's Winter Garden, for example. It's absolutely amazing."

"I promise to sit down if I start feeling tired or dizzy," Megan said quickly. "I really do feel much better now. My arm isn't burning at all, and my head…well, it's as clear as anyone not in their right mind has any reason to expect."

"You are not going insane, Megan," Sarah frowned at her.

"If you say so, Your Majesty."

"That's it! You're getting up," Sarah decided. "If only so your senses can prove to you that all this is real."

"The senses can be deceived, Sarah," Megan pointed out, sitting up in the bed. "But what the hell? U still may as well enjoy it. It beats the pain I'd probably be feeling otherwise, or so I keep telling myself."

"What exactly happened to you?" Sarah rang for a maid.

"A truck crashed through the showroom window where I was working," Megan replied. "I remember a hail of glass…" she bit her lip. "I was standing with my friend, Jolene. I wish I knew what happened to her. It was her last day before she went out on maternity leave."

Sarah could only pat the hand clutching the coverlet. An Elvin maid entered the room, carrying a tray.

"Lunch for two, Your Majesty," she set the tray on a table near the bed, and curtsied to Sarah.

"Thank you, Blossom," Sarah nodded. "While we eat, please find Lady Megan something to wear. NOT pale blue."

"Yes ma'am," Blossom went off into the dressing room.

"Do you have to call me that? It makes me feel like such a fake," Megan complained. "I'm not a lady. My parents are strictly working class."

"Oberon and Tatiana's orders," Sarah replied. They felt a title was owing to you, after Mikkal's actions. Most humans from Above wouldn't have even thought to call him on them in front of the High King."

"Blame it on my upbringing and education," Megan sighed, slipping her feet into warm slippers, and letting Sarah help her into a quilted robe. "I had one grandmother who knew the Mabinogion by heart, a Shakespearean actor grandfather, and the other grandmother had gypsy blood."

"No wonder you went for Folklore and Mythology!"

"There was bound to be one of us who did."


	10. Chapter 10

63

**Chapter 9.**

"I'm not sure Mikkal is going to learn anything in the custody of the Oak King or the Holly King," Devon, as usual, was in attendance of Jareth. "Especially not in one year."

"He'd better. You know as well as any Oberon **_will_** exile him the next time anyone brings a complaint against him," Jareth stated. "The Kings of Oak and Holly will not tolerate Mikkal's sulks, nor are they likely to spoil the brat further. I'm not sure which part of this angers me more. His threat to burn Dickon out, or the boy's continued insistence he is just following my lead!" Jareth's mismatched eyes were dark with anger.

"I notice you don't seem all that upset by his treatment of the girl," Devon commented.

"He wants her, he's going to try influencing her," Jareth shrugged. "I did much the same with Sarah, once she was in my kingdom. But I have **_never_** stolen a child or a woman!"

"True. There are plenty of sins I could lay at your door, but that isn't one of them," Devon nodded. He got away with it, because he and Jareth had been friends from childhood, not that they'd been allowed to spend much time together. Devon, the younger son of Duke Thierry, had entered Jareth's service by choice.

"That's not amusing, Devon," Jareth glared briefly at his friend. His entire expression altered when he spotted two cloaked figures in the Winter Garden. "Sarah." As if she'd heard his whisper – and Devon was sure she probably had – Sarah paused, turned, and looked directly at them. Jareth's smile widened. "We are summoned, my friend."

Devon was struck again how tiny the human girl, Megan, was. She barely came up to his collarbone, and in his estimation, didn't weigh much more than a child. But there was nothing childish about the curves, currently encased in a gown of deep blue wool and wrapped in a cape of rose wool lined with pale rose silk and trimmed with grey fur.

"You look a damn sight better than when last we saw you, Megan," Jareth commented when they reached the women.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," Megan inclined her head slightly. The hood of her cloak shadowed her face. "Captain Devon, I did not have the chance to thank you for your help. I do appreciate you not letting me address the High King from my hands and knees. Even more, I thank you for not letting Prince Mikkal so much as touch me, although I am afraid I did not make a very good dance partner."

"Both services were my pleasure, Lady Megan, although I will freely admit thwarting Prince Mikkal was perhaps the greater of the two," Devon bowed, wondering what colour her eyes were. "As for the dance… we had no music, and you were not feeling your best. Another evening, I am sure you would make quite a graceful partner." Megan turned slightly, her face still mostly hidden by her hood.

"Perhaps sir," she allowed. "But I confess I don't know the steps."

"Easily enough learned," Sarah said brightly, taking Jareth's arm. "We have an excellent dance instructor at home. Jareth insisted I learn, and now Claire and Toby are learning."

"So, have you agreed to be our guest then?" Jareth inquired.

"In a manner of speaking, Your Majesty," Megan nodded. "Queen Sarah has suggested I may be able to help with the education of your children."

"Oh?" Jareth quirked an eyebrow at Sarah.

"Megan has a very classical education," Sarah nodded, beginning to move again, and pulling Jareth along with her. Megan and Devon fell in behind them.

"I get the feeling you do not care much for Prince Mikkal, Captain Devon," Megan commented after several moments of silence between them.

"No, I don't," Devon admitted. "He was a spoiled brat and a trouble maker as a child, and he's yet to grow up much at all. To my mother's lasting despair, I have always preferred Jareth's company, even when he's in a bad mood."

"With such a beautiful wife, I can't imagine the Goblin King having many of those."

"His moods have improved since their union," Devon told her. "He's still got a rather thankless job, keeping the Goblins in line. Think of a hedgehog or a porcupine under attack, or a bear with a sore tooth and an empty belly, and you have Jareth in a mood." Megan giggled, and covered her mouth with one hand to stifle the sound. Devon realized her arm was bandaged again, and frowned slightly. Why hadn't Oberon's Court Healer, a marvellously talented Fey named Bercheron, been able to heal it completely? He didn't ask her, however. "Other than your somewhat precipitous entrance, and Mikkal's brief, unpleasant appearance, I hope you enjoy your stay here."

"It's quite beautiful, but almost too beautiful for me," Megan sighed. "Then again, if one is going to be mad, one may as well enjoy it."

"Mad?"

"I keep telling myself none of this could possibly be real," she explained.

"Even with the pain from your arm, and all the unpleasant attention from Mikkal?"

"I was in a horrific accident, Captain," she reminded. "If I am, in fact, in a hospital bed at home, I've no doubt there would be pain involved. Mikkal's attention could merely be my mind dealing with all the things I'll never get a chance to experience. Or, he could actually be death itself."

"I'm not sure Arawn would care for that hypothesis," Devon said wryly.

"The Lord of Annwn," Megan recognised the name. "But Annwn isn't quite the Land of the Dead, is it?"

"Part of it is the Land of Shades," Devon connected. "These days, that section is not as well-populated as it has been in the past. For the human soul to journey there requires belief in things most humans no longer even think about."

"Such as?"

"Reincarnation, the Old Gods, the Fey realms themselves," he replied.

"Interesting," Megan sounded thoughtful. "In short, those who journey to Annwn are Pagan."

"Yes."

Megan said nothing more, but her mind mulled over the possibilities. Perhaps of all the Fey, Arawn could help her get home. Or end the madness she was experiencing. She would have to inquire about getting to Annwn, of course. Or ask if Arawn was present at Court.

'_She's quiet, isn't she?'_ Jareth glanced over his shoulder, opting to use mind-speech with Sarah.

'_I think she is in awe of you, and not quite sure how to deal with Devon,'_ Sarah responded in kind.

'_I understand the first half of that. I **am** awe-inspiring,'_ Jareth smirked. _'But what the devil is her problem with Devon? He was her knight errant in Court.'_

'_And she considers him very handsome,'_ Sarah nodded slightly. _'She's young, Jareth. She's facing a whole new world. And Devon isn't exactly the boy next door, or the guy that sits near her in class. He's a military man, and Fey besides. It's very confusing for her.'_

'_He keeps trying to get her to look up. I think he's trying to discover the colour of her eyes,'_ Jareth noted.

'_Let him find out for himself. It's half the fun,'_ Sarah smiled.

'_You little minx! You're playing match maker!'_ Jareth accused.

'_No, I'm just occasionally nudging things in the proper direction,'_ Sarah stated. _'I don't think they actually need much help, just opportunity.'_

'_I'm going to have to give a ball, aren't I?'_ Jareth sighed. He hated State affairs. His last Chancellor had a bad habit of ignoring his Goblin folk, or indeed, any non-Fey. Garthon hadn't even paid much attention to the likes and dislikes of his own king!

'_Oh, just a small one. I'll see to it,' _Sarah promised. _'He is your best friend, Jareth. And she needs help adjusting. Besides, Toby's birthday is coming up, and Claire's is two weeks after his. You'll be wanting to celebrate those things.'_

'_Just try to keep it less…stifling than the last thing Garthon planned,'_ he requested.

"Are you suggesting I am anything like that narrow-minded, high-handed…" Sarah began aloud, sputtering in anger.

"Perish the thought, my Sarah," Jareth drew her closer to his side. "Or don't. We could have a rousing good row, then kiss and make up. I do like that part."

"Jareth, you are incorrigible!"

"I thought you figured that out years ago, Sarah?" Devon asked mildly.

"You can be replaced, Devon," Jareth growled.

"Not a chance! No one but Sarah and I would put up with you," Devon shrugged casually. "Not for long, anyhow."

"I hate it when he gets smug," Jareth complained.

"That's surprising, when you are generally so smug yourself," Sarah teased. Jareth scooped up a handful of snow and shoved it down the front of Sarah's gown. "You'll pay for that Jareth!" She darted off the path. A moment later, a snowball landed directly against Jareth's chest.

"Ah, it's war, then!" Jareth laughed. While he was scooping up more snow, a second snowball caught him at the back of his neck. "Wench! I see I need a shield." He grabbed Megan around the waist and set her between himself and Sarah.

"Hiding behind the skirts of an injured female? I don't think so!" Megan darted away, taking refuge behind a silver birch tree. "Fire at will, Sarah! He's your headache!" Devon, grinning, stood back to watch.

"You're not helping, Devon!" Jareth fired off two snowballs in rapid succession. One caught Sarah's shoulder and the other splattered against Megan's tree.

"I didn't start this," Devon pointed out. "And since when have you needed help in a snowball fight against two girls?" Jareth started to answer, and got hit with two snowballs at once.

"Since both of these girls have such damn good aim!"

"And what was that about two girls?" Sarah demanded. "You didn't even try to keep him from using Megan as a shield!"

"That's right, he didn't," Megan paused, and changed the direction of her throw. The snowball caught Devon in the gut. "Must adjust for height and distance!"

They were having a grand time, laughing and flinging snowballs. Until Megan saw the rose petals slipping out of the sleeve of her gown to flutter to the snowy ground. With a frightened cry, she cradled her injured arm and bolted.


	11. Chapter 11

68

**Chapter 10.**

"Where did the rose petals come from, Jareth?" Devon demanded. Sarah had gone after Megan when she'd fled. That had been two hours ago. Now, changed, warm and dry, the men were heading to the banquet hall for the evening meal. "The way she reacted, I thought Mikkal…"

"They came from Megan herself," Jareth sighed. "Her wound was caused by thorns from a Blood Rose."

"Where the hell did she come in to contact with one of those?"

"The royal gardens of Par Valon. Yes, my father had a fit. His was mild compared to Tatiana's. My stepmother went positively ballistic," Jareth grinned slightly. "It was a splendid display, especially since it wasn't directed at me for a change."

"No wonder Megan is convinced she's going mad," Devon shook his head. "First she finds herself in a world humans no longer believe exists, now she has to face the magical changes wrought by the Blood Rose."

"And the very real possibility she may not survive those changes," Jareth nodded. "And we won't know one way or another until the arm heals."

"Which explains her reaction to the petals this afternoon. The arm should be healing by now."

"She told Sarah it doesn't hurt as much as it did," Jareth said. "The problem is, I'm not sure if that's a good sign or not."

They met the two women on the wide main staircase. Megan looked pale and unsure, but she managed a small smile as Devon bowed to her, offering his arm.

"Prepared to be my Protector yet again, Captain Devon?" she inquired, placing her hand on his arm. He could see her eyes now. They were grey. Like storm clouds lit by the sun, he thought.

"Your escort, my lady," he corrected lightly. "I doubt you'll have any need of a protector in Oberon's banquet hall."

"Megan's afraid of doing something shockingly wrong," Sarah wrapped her arm around Jareth's. "I keep telling her good manners are good manners, and hers are bound to be better than some I've already seen around here."

"Just get through this one evening, Megan," Jareth said. "We leave for home tomorrow, and most of the universe has better manners than Goblins."

"You do not stay for the Solstice, Your Majesty?" Megan asked, frowning slightly.

"We shall celebrate it at home, our own way," Jareth said. "We need to get Toby out of the nurseries here. He's becoming very…short-tempered with some of the servants assigned there currently."

"Someone try banning Teak again?" Devon guessed.

"Lord de Courcy's guardsman went as far as trying to physically remove Teak," Sarah nodded. "Claire's screaming could be heard all the way to the Royal Apartments. Toby had to be peeled off the man's leg, and he **_bit_** him."

"For which Oberon commended him," Jareth said with a touch of pride. "Leaping to the defence of his servant speaks well of the boy."

"Who or what is Teak?" Megan asked.

"Bodyguard to my children," Jareth replied. "And Claire's favourite playmate. He also happens to be a goblin. A very young one, barely old enough for the guards…"

"And the runt of his litter, in size," Devon added. "He more than makes up for it in sheer loyalty and determination, though."

"If he is the bodyguard to the prince and princess, I fail to understand why anyone would have the nerve to try banning him from where they are," Megan frowned.

"It's because he is a goblin," Devon explained. "Some Fey have a strong aversion to the presence of non-Fey. They see it as a… contamination."

"Bigotry and racism being alive and well in the lands of the Fey, you mean," Megan grimaced.

"Basically, yes," he nodded. "How many races did you see in Par Valon?"

"That I can recall? Fey and human only, and the humans in the subservient role at all times," Megan recalled. "But there were humans in Oberon's Court this morning…"

"My father is far from xenophobic," Jareth said easily. "Tatiana is generally more…reserved around humans, especially females over sixteen…"

"With good reason!"

"Oberon is king," Jareth shrugged. "He does as best pleases him."

"Just remember," Sarah rapped his arm lightly. "I'm a lot less forgiving that Tatiana."

"And I am far more possessive than Oberon," Jareth grinned. "It works well."

"Are they always like that?" Megan asked Devon in amusement.

"Sometimes they're worse," he winked down at her.

Oberon and Tatiana welcomed Megan graciously. She found herself at the long table between Devon and an Elvin male named Leone, who, although a bit reserved in manner, was polite and interesting. The Fey beauty across from Devon spent the meal giving her dirty looks. Megan was fairly sure it had nothing to do with her Race. In fact, based on the looks Lady Amberlee cast in Devon's direction, any female sitting at Devon's side would have gotten the same looks…even if it had been little Claire, Jareth and Sarah's two-year-old daughter.

After the meal, there was dancing. Megan sat watching, admiring the grace of the dancers and the complexity of the steps in the various sets.

"Lady Megan," Devon bowed to her, holding out his hand.

"I don't know the steps," she shook her head.

"But you have been watching, and the waltz is not all that difficult," he smiled, claiming her hand and pulling her gently to her feet. "I won't let you slip."

With his strong arm around her waist, Megan felt more as if she were floating than dancing. The basic three-stroke beat of the music was easy to follow, and Devon kept the steps simple, leaving the flowery embellishments to other couples. Her eyes were shining by the end.

"As light as thistledown, and as graceful as a swan," Devon complimented her, escorting her back to her seat.

"You are too kind, Captain," Megan smiled. "But thank you." She noticed Amberlee was glaring again, but refused to let the girl's jealousy spoil her enjoyment.

"It was my pleasure, my lady," Devon assured her. He bowed to a tall, silver-haired man standing by Megan's chair. "Good evening, Father."

"I'd say it was about time you noticed me, but I understand your attention being elsewhere," Duke Thierry smiled, more at Megan, who blushed, than at Devon.

"Father, may I present the Lady Megan Lewis. Lady Megan, my father, Duke Thierry," Devon introduced them. Megan curtsied. "Be warned, my lady. He's an incorrigible flirt."

"And my younger son here is incorrigible, period," Thierry remarked, bowing over Megan's hand. "Comes from spending so much time around Jareth, I dare say."

"Neither one of them can throw a snowball, though," Megan grinned slyly.

"If we'd actually hit you or Sarah too often, we'd be inviting a lecture from Sir Didymus," Devon informed her.

"A likely story! I cannot imagine anyone having the nerve to lecture you or King Jareth, Captain."

"Wait until you meet Sir Didymus."


	12. Chapter 12

76

**Chapter 11.**

They rode to the Goblin Kingdom. Megan was very glad to be in the fancy glass and gold coach with Sarah and the children. She liked horses, but a month of 'instruction' from Mikkal hadn't done much to actually instil any ability to ride one. She could openly admire both Devon and Jareth, however. Their mounts were high-spirited animals; Jareth's had even kicked one of the extra guards roaming around Yns Ays. They behaved perfectly for their riders, moving with grace and attitude that matched the two men well.

"They make quite a picture, don't they?" Sarah caught her watching Devon and smiled. "Do you ride, Megan?"

"Not really," Megan shook her head. "If Mikkal had ever shut up, and left my training to his head groom, I'd have learned the basics, at least. As it is, all I can do is mount and dismount without help. That, I learned from sheer self-preservation!"

"Father and Devon are teaching me," Toby announced. He'd accepted the addition of Megan in his life with delight, and she was already becoming fond of both children. It was hard not to be: Claire was a sunny little angel, and Toby was good-natured, intelligent, and thoughtful. Just don't try messing with his sister or Teak; then his temper rivalled what Megan had heard of his father's. "I have my own pony, even. Her name is Fleetfoot."

"That's very good. By the time Claire is old enough to start learning, you'll be able to help teach her," Megan smiled.

"I could teach you," he suggested, with perfect nine-year-old seriousness.

"You probably could, at that," she agreed.

The coach paused at the top of a windswept hill late in the afternoon. Directly ahead lay a sweeping, broad road through a forest of mixed hardwoods and evergreens. Off to their right, a twisted footpath led down to the Labyrinth itself. Beyond the Labyrinth, at the far end of the valley, the rooftops of the Goblin City and the tall spires of Jareth's castle caught the last rays of the setting sun.

"It's huge!" Megan's eyes widened, darted briefly to Sarah's face, then returned to the Labyrinth. "How long did it take you?"

"A little over twelve hours," Sarah replied.

"You're joking!"

"I had help," Sarah admitted, grinning. "Now that I know it, it doesn't take that long. But I'd never want to be pitted against it again. I've gotten used to the goblins. I'm not sure **_anyone_** gets used to the fireys."

"What is a firey, or is it safer not to ask?"

"They're….difficult to describe," Sarah looked thoughtful. "They live to have a good time. They're sort of like living Lego creatures, in a way. They can detach body parts at will, but they still haven't learned no one else can. Children tend to find them amusing, at least until it's their heads being tugged on. I found them a pain, the first time I encountered them. There have been adults who have found them more like some…gang nightmare."

"In which case, being adult, I don't think I'd care to meet them at all," Megan shivered. "What is that dead-looking area?"

"The Bog of Eternal Stench," Toby replied. "You don't want to go there, **_ever_**! Stick one little toe in the bog, you stink forever!"

"So much for the fluffy side of fairytales," Megan snorted.

"Human fairytales have been dumbed down, and outright changed," Sarah agreed. "I'm sure you studied some of the originals."

"Much darker, not all happy endings, and definitely not for telling small children at bedtime," Megan nodded. "That said, I always thought Red Riding Hood lied."

"Why would she lie?" Toby asked.

"Because that red cape wasn't warm enough, and she wanted one made of wolf fur."

"Oh!"

The Goblin City looked as if it had been designed for children by children. The houses were no higher than Devon mounted on his mare, oddly shaped and strangely angled. In the light of old fashioned candle lamps, with snow on the ground, it was a peaceful, if weird, scene. There were few of the inhabitants out and about at this time of the evening, mostly what appeared to be males on guard duty or on their way home.

"None of them are as cute as Teak," Megan commented, causing Teak to hide his face in embarrassment. "But, on the whole, goblins don't look so bad. Not bad enough to be the stuff of nightmares."

"Nothing is ever quite as it seems around here," Sarah said. "What looks like a solid wall may be an optical illusion. What appears normal is usually anything but."

"Teak is considered ugly goblin, Miss," Teak mourned. "Got no tusks, no horns, no big buggy eyes…"

"Me love Teak!" Claire declared, sensing her favourite needed reassurance. She hugged him for good measure. "Teak boo-ty-full!"

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, Teak," Megan patted his shoulder. "And true beauty, the kind that doesn't fade with time, is on the inside. It shines out through what you do. You take excellent care of the children. That is beauty. Mikkal of Par Valon thinks only of himself, and causes a great deal of pain to others. That is very, very ugly."

"You say so, Miss." But Teak sounded doubtful.

"Welcome home, Your Majesties!"

The voice reminded Megan of a British comic actor she watched on television occasionally. The speaker, however, totally floored her. Didymus was a fox, the kind with a bushy tail, long muzzle and sharp teeth. And his saddled mount, which he was currently riding patrol of the hall on, was an Old English Sheep Dog.

"Sir Didymus, report," Jareth ordered, carrying Claire into the entrance hall.

"All quiet, my king. Of course, none dare cross lance with me!" Didymus announced. His manner was like the character of Lancelot in 'Camelot', and Megan expected him to burst into a rendition of 'C'est Moi' at any moment. "But surely, thou hast returned early? The Solstice is yet two days off."

"Prince Toby didn't care for the company in the nurseries at Yns Ays," Jareth shrugged. "Marg!"

" 'Tis unfortunate, Sire, but so be it. We shall keep the festive celebrations in fine style here." Didymus looked curiously at Megan as he dismounted. "And what have we here?"

"Sir Didymus, this is Lady Megan Lewis, the new governess," Sarah said. "Megan, this is my Champion, Sir Didymus."

"Such a vision of loveliness," Didymus bowed and kissed Megan's hand. "Greetings to thee, fair maiden."

"I am pleased to meet you, sir," Megan managed to keep from grinning too broadly. It was all so absurd! But then, she supposed madness was full of the absurd.

"Tell me, my lady. Dost thou have a champion?" Didymus inquired. His tone, and the expression on his face caught Megan off-guard. The odd little creature was hitting on her!

"Yes, Didymus, she does," Jareth stated. "Marg!"

"I'm coming, I'm coming," a neat woman came along the hallway near the grand stairs. "Do stop shouting, Jareth, You'll wake the entire castle and half the City."

"Marg, this is Lady Megan," Sarah pulled Megan forward. "She's Toby's new governess. She'll need rooms close to the nursery and the schoolroom."

"Welcome, Lady Megan. We'll get you sorted soon as may be," Marg smiled. "Nanny must be glad to have you, I'm sure. The young master fair runs her ragged with his questions."

"She has a champion?" Didymus asked Devon, disappointment in his voice.

"Well, you weren't there when the position came up," Devon grinned slightly. "So I took on the job."

"Ah, very well, then," Didymus sighed.

"Marg, it's been a long day. We shall have a light meal in the family dining room," Jareth announced.

"Thought as much. Go up. It will be there shortly," Marg answered.

"Who is Marg?" Megan asked Sarah lowly as they all started up the staircase.

"Officially, she's the housekeeper," Sarah replied. "She also helped raise Jareth, and she's been wonderful to me."

"Another of the few who dare call the king to task, I take it?"

"Yes, but only to an extent," Sarah nodded. "There is a big difference in rank there, and neither of them forget it too often." Megan nodded, then looked over her shoulder at Devon.

"And that was the Sir Didymus you feared a lecture from?" she demanded lightly.

"He can be incredibly long-winded and exceedingly stuffy," Devon informed her. "Wait until he starts writing you poetry."

"He also has devilishly sharp teeth, and has used them on our ankles on occasion," Jareth added. "Usually when we fell asleep during one of his lectures on the Code."

"Good for him! It really isn't done, falling asleep in class," Megan's tone was stern, but her eyes danced with laughter. "It definitely isn't very royal behaviour."

"Sarah, she's as cruel as you are."

"I'm quite sure you can take it, Jareth," Sarah said sweetly.

"Lady Megan, you won't bit my ankles, will you?" Toby asked, eyes wide.

"My teeth aren't as good for it as Sir Didymus's, my prince," Megan assured him. "Besides, I don't foresee the problem arising, do you?"

"I don't," Devon smiled. "I doubt Lady Megan's voice as monotone as Sir Didymus's in lecture mode."

"I have been known, however, to pinch the ears of lazy students over the age of sixteen," Megan said, winking at the boy at her side. "Even those I don't happen to be teaching."

"Watch out for your ears, Devon!" Jareth laughed.

"I'm safe as long as I'm standing," Devon shrugged. "She can't reach." Megan wheeled, reached back, and tweaked one of his ears. "Ouch!"

"There is always a way," Megan smiled sweetly. "Never challenge someone who grew up with five siblings, Captain. I always find a way."


	13. Chapter 13

83

**Chapter 12.**

Solstice, the longest night of the year, was marked by a feast, gifts, and games. At midnight, Jareth would light a massive bonfire in the square before the castle gates. The oldest male in each family…or, in the case of the castle, Jareth himself…would light torches from the bonfire to relight the fires in their homes.

"Is the king honestly going to go from room to room, relighting every fire in the castle?" Megan asked Marg. "It would take him hours!"

"And he'd get bored long before he was finished," Marg's eyes twinkled. "He only lights five by hand. Each of those five is linked to groups of others. The throne room lights all the fires in public rooms. The main hearth in the kitchen is linked to all the hearths in the working areas. Mine is linked to all the servants' quarters, Captain Devon's is linked to the barracks and guards' rooms, and the hearth in Jareth's own chambers relights the fires in the Royal Apartments."

"And which is my fire linked to?"

"I'm honestly not sure. Mine or Jareth's, I should imagine."

"Mine," Jareth himself answered, entering the housekeeper's office. Megan had actually come to ask Marg about getting rid of the pale pink and excess lace in her chambers. The last occupant had been the former Nanny, whose sense of self-importance had demanded a larger suite than the one off the nursery. The woman wasn't missed, from what Megan had heard. "Which means, Megan, you will be expected to escort us the entire way, the same as Nanny. When the last fire is lit, you two will put the children to bed."

"As you wish, Sire," Megan nodded. "DO they have to be all dolled up for that, or can we get them into their nightclothes ahead of time? Midnight is very late for a child the princess's age. She may well fall asleep somewhere along the way."

"Change them after supper. They'd probably have more fun running around in their nightclothes, in any case," Jareth decided. "Marg, have you gone over the menu with Vatel and Cook?"

"And with Sarah. I do know my job, Jareth," Marg nodded.

"Good. Take Megan over to see Candon. He needs to check her arm," Jareth stated. "Once he clears you for duty, Megan…"

"I've been cleared for duty by Bercheron, Your Majesty," Megan reminded.

"Don't interrupt, girl!" Jareth glared at her. "You're picking up bad habits from Devon already."

"No Sire," she shook her head. "I used to constantly interrupt my father to remind him of things."

"Old habits die hard, but kill that one."

"Yes Sire," Megan promised. Jareth left. "And he never finished the order."

"Probably figures you already know what he was going to say," Marg snorted lightly. "Come along to the store rooms. We'll soon get rid of those silly frills. Bit of a surprise, they were. That woman wasn't one you'd expect to go in for flounces."

"I also have a strong aversion to mahogany furniture and swan beds," Megan admitted.

By the end of the day, she felt more at ease in the chambers assigned to her. The heavy mahogany had been replaced by birdseye maple. Instead of pinks and lace, the curtains on the windows, and drapes on the bed were a silvery-grey, with darker grey patterns. A deeper shade of grey covered the bed, chairs and window seat, accented with silver and light grey cushions. Even the carpets on the floors of the sitting room and bedchamber reflected the colour scheme.

"Like starlight it is," Marg nodded approvingly. "Come along. You're t o take most of your meals with Nanny and Teak, since the children eat with their parents. Nice little room off the nursery. Tomorrow, you'll see Ceile about a gown for Solstice. Short notice, but she's a wizard when it comes to such things. I saw her watching you earlier, so if I know her, she's already got something half done."

Ceile came looking for Megan in the schoolroom the following morning.

"Lady Megan, how am I supposed to finish your gown for tonight, let alone make a start on the rest of your wardrobe, if you don't come to the sewing chambers?" Ceile was a wrinkled, ancient goblin woman.

"My wardrobe?" Megan blinked. "I have…"

"Two nightdresses, one robe, one pair of slippers, one pair of shoes, one pair of boots, one cloak, three shifts, and four day gowns," Ceile recited. "Not enough! The cloak is the wrong colour, as well."

"She needs a riding habit, Ceile," Toby announced. "I'm going to help teach her to ride."

"At least one riding habit, Young Master," Ceile nodded. "Means proper boots, and gloves. You have no gloves of any sort, my lady. That won't do at all. Nanny, I'm taking her along now." She latched onto Megan's arm.

"I promise to see to it that Prince Toby does his handwriting assignment, Lady Megan," Nanny smiled sweetly. Megan wasn't given a chance to answer. Ceile already had dragged her into the hallway. Considering she wasn't as tall as Claire, she was amazingly strong.

"I warn you, Ceile. I don't do frilly," Megan sighed, giving into her little guide.

"Frilly is for little girls," Ceile snorted. "You aren't as tall as the Queen, but you've got the right curves that no one should mistake you for a human child. Frilly would look silly. Keep up, keep up!"

Ceile wasn't the only seamstress in the castle. The sewing chamber was actually a cluster of four rooms, filled with at least two dozen workers, including three tailors. Ceile sent someone for the cobbler, called a tall Elvin girl to help her, and ushered Megan into a small room. With a curtain pulled across the door, she ordered Megan to strip to her shift.

"No white," she muttered. "No pale blue, because you don't like it. No pink, no red with that hair! Purples, greens, greys, silver, gold, dark blue…" Bolts of cloth were brought in, held against Megan's cheek, and either sent back out, or piled on the side. Megan's eyes grew wide at the growing pile of wool, cotton, linen, serge, satin, silk, brocade, velvet, and materials she had no names for.

"Ceile! I'm the governess!" She finally protested.

"Yes, my lady. Now be a good girl, shut up, and stand still," Ceile ordered placidly.

Marg sent one of the maids up to help Megan dress for the festivities. Brin was a Halfling…half Elvin, Half Human… and stood taller than Megan by a good six inches.

"I feel silly," Megan grumbled, as Brin did up the ribbon laces on her bodice. The underdress was silver watered silk, the bodice was silver brocade. Both were strewn with crystals.

"But it is a beautiful gown, my lady," Brin said. "And it looks very good on you. Why, you'll have half the garrison falling at your feet!"

"That's not a comforting thought, Brin," Megan groaned. "How does Ceile do it? The only thing she had to adjust on this gown was the hem…"

"Ceile's been at it longer than I could say," Brin replied. "She may be old, but her mind's sharp, and her eyes are sharper still."

"Isn't that…well, unusual in a goblin?"

"Oh you get the occasional brilliant ones, Lady Megan," Brin smiled. "Now sit, and let me do your hair."

Megan felt very self conscious as she entered the banquet hall an hour later. The party had already started, with Elvin musicians and goblins dancing and laughing all over the room.

"Good evening, Lady Megan," Didymus appeared, bowing before her. "A vision of loveliness, fair maiden! My eyes weep for joy at such a sight!"

"You are too kind, Sir Didymus," Megan said. "Really, you are."

"Might I have the honour of a dance this evening?"

"I'm afraid my dancing leaves much to be desired," she shook her head.

"Don't you believe it, Sir Didymus," Devon, smiling, joined them, holding his hand out to Megan. Without even thinking about it, she placed her hand in his.

"I do not, Captain Devon," Didymus replied. "Ah, pray excuse me. I see gentle Ludo has arrived. The goblins will tease him, if I am not there to chase them off." He glided off toward a huge, shaggy creature.

"Isn't there some lonely vixen we could fix him up with?" Megan asked as Devon lead her further into the room.

"We keep looking. So far, we haven't found one," Devon chuckled. "Has he written you any poetry yet?"

"No, and don't you dare get him started."

Sarah looked like a snow queen, all in white and crystal. Megan thought it a bit unfair that Jareth, as pale and blonde as he was, looked so startlingly handsome as he did, also in all white. Most blondes didn't look so good in all white or all black. It was as if any colour they had to themselves was leached away.

"Ah, now we have both the Winter Queens!" Jareth teased. "The Queen of Snow and Ice," he kissed Sarah's hand. "And the Queen of Ice Storms."

"What is me, Daddy?" Claire asked.

"My Solstice Angel," Jareth scooped her up into his arms. "Tell me, Megan. How soon can I expect to see a lesson plan for Toby?"

"Jareth, it's Solstice!" Sarah rolled her eyes.

"A complete short-term plan will be on your desk tomorrow afternoon, Sire," Megan informed him. "And long-term suggestions will be ready for your input by the end of the week. I'm afraid you'll have to find language instructors. I obviously don't speak any of the Fey languages. I'm not even sure which you wish to have the children learn, other than Goblin. And Teak seems to have that covered, at least from a conversational aspect."

"See? The girl knows her job," Jareth said.

"No more! I forbid either of you from discussing work tonight," Sarah said sternly. "Devon, take Megan around and introduce her to people."

"Can't I just hide somewhere and watch?" Megan asked hopefully.

"Only if you want to end up with Sir Didymus on your lap," Devon shook his head.

"He'd have to find me first, and I am good at hiding."

"I'd find you for him."

"You have a nasty streak, Captain Devon," Megan glared up at him. Devon just laughed. "Just remember that, when I abandon you to the first simpering, giggling, marriage-minded female I can."

"Fortunately, most of them are still currently at Yns Ays," Devon informed her. "And the ones who are here have their eyes elsewhere. Come along."

"I am beginning to see what you meant by opportunity," Jareth murmured in Sarah's ear. "Isn't it…opportunistic that Megan will be with us when I light the fire in Devon's chambers?"


	14. Chapter 14

93

**Chapter 13.**

Within a week, Megan had settled into a bit of a routine. For three hours each morning, she worked with Toby on his lessons in the school room. Nanny and Claire were also there, with Nanny patiently teaching Claire her letters, numbers, shapes and colours. After lunch, they met in the music room for an hour with the dance master, an elderly faun who was surprisingly courteous, endlessly patient, and drolly amusing. Then Nanny would take Claire back upstairs for her nap, Toby went off to his riding lesson, and Megan usually ended up in Jareth's extensive library, furthering her own education as finding what she needed for Toby's.

"Lady Megan, today you get your first riding lesson," Toby announced, entering the music room a week after Solstice.

"I'm afraid I don't yet have anything suitable to wear for riding, my prince," Megan shook her head.

"I think you will find you do, my lady," Nanny corrected gently. "I saw it being delivered earlier."

"Well then, I suppose today is my first riding lesson here," Megan managed to smile. Toby beamed. "But right now, Master Talis is waiting for our attention."

Brin was waiting for her when she returned to her room to change. Laying out on her bed was a dove grey wool riding habit, with black gloves, a fleece-lined black hat, and a black scarf. A pair of high blacks boots stood by her dressing table.

"It's it perfect, my lady? You can ride side saddle or astride in this," Brin smiled and began unlacing the back of Megan's dark green day gown.

"Lovely," Megan sighed.

"Don't you like it?"

"Oh, I like it. As usual, Ceile's work is astonishing. The truth is, I'm not sure I want to learn to ride," Megan explained. "The last attempt didn't go very well, and, to be honest, I'm a bit nervous."

"Oh, don't you fret, Lady Megan! Captain Devon's the best teacher in the entire kingdom, with the exception of Duke Thierry," Brin smiled.

"Captain Devon?" Megan squeaked. "Now I am sure this isn't a good idea."

"And just why not?" Brin demanded. Her nimble fingers already had the green dress opened. She slid it carefully off over the bandages on Megan's left arm. "He's a fine looking specimen, our Captain Devon is. Polite, kind, loyal…"

"I know! That's why I don't think this is a good idea," Megan moaned. "I find concentrating very difficult with him around."

"I don't believe that for a heartbeat, not of you," Brin shook her head. "Anyone sees you together knows better." She lowered the gown so Megan could step out of it, and a few rose petals fluttered to the floor. "I'll re-bandaged your arm first. Sit down." She draped the gown over the end of the bed, and fetched the basket of bandages. "You take my advice, Lady Megan. Captain Devon enjoys your company, and that can't be said about many females. Most of them are older, and married, which may be why he feels safe around them. He needs a proper lady, one who won't get all silly about his friendship with Jareth and Sarah, or his men, or his family connections. You're the type that takes folk as you find them, and rank be damned.

"But I am human, Brin."

"You were born human. So was the Goblin Queen. This," the maid held up the arm she'd just unwrapped. There wasn't much pain anymore, and usually, and fewer petals were released. The wound even seemed to be healing. "This means you aren't quite human anymore, Megan. We may not know the extent of the changes for a while yet, but they are settling into your system."

"I should have asked Oberon to send me straight to Annwn," Megan fretted.

"Annwn? Why would a sane, healthy soul be wanting to go there?" Brin snorted. "Annwn has two seasons: harvest and snows. It's not exactly what's you'd consider a cheerful spot."

"No one's convinced me I am still sane," Megan pointed out. "And maybe Arawn can do something about me being here, or about my arm."

"You can't go back Above, my lady. You know that," Brin's voice was soft and full of sympathy.

"I suppose part of me does," Megan admitted.

"So, may as well make the best of what Fate has handed you, don't you think?" Brin demanded briskly, helping her into the riding habit. "And right now, that means a riding lesson with one of the most handsome, most eligible bachelor in the entire Fey realms. You wouldn't wish Lady Amberlee on him, would you?"

"I wouldn't wish Amberlee de Corsica on a diseased hobgoblin!" Megan agreed ferverently.

Toby was waiting to escort her to the stables, and chatted excitedly all the way. Megan was glad he didn't expect her to answer him. She wasn't sure she'd be able to do so coherently.

Devon was waiting for them, leaning against a fence by two saddled ponies. One was Toby's beloved bay mare, Fleetfoot. The other was a pinto gelding who stood only an inch or two taller than Fleetfoot.

"Good afternoon, Lady Megan," Devon bowed slightly. "This is Dondi. He's gentle, he's smart, and he's yours."

"Mine?" Megan blinked.

"Claire and I picked him out for you, Lady Megan," Toby informed her. "From a string Father and Devon showed us. Father says it's best to learn on your own mount. I know he's not very tall…"

"Not being very tall myself, Toby, I am very glad Dondi isn't," Megan assured him.

"Up you go, Toby," Devon gave Toby only a slight boost onto his saddle. "Now, start walking her around the perimeter. A walk! I catch you picking up speed before I give the word, you'll be horseless for a week!"

"Yes Devon," Toby sighed, setting Fleetfoot off along the fence.

"Just before Solstice, the scamp tried to take a jump when no one was looking," Devon told Megan. "When Sarah found out, she lit all over him, Jareth, me, two grooms, and the poor pony."

"Did Toby get hurt?" Megan asked.

"Only his pride," Devon reassured her. "His backside might have been tender after Sarah finished with him, but he'd never admit it."

"I am glad you limited the children's choices for me to ponies," Megan let Dondi get a good whiff, then patted the velvety nose. "Mikkal literally threw me up on one of those tall mares like yours on the first day, and just let her loose. I was completely terrified, and I still don't know how I managed not to fall off."

"Mikkal is an idiot, and he's far from being anything more than an average rider," Devon stated. "Come on, up you go." He held the stirrup for her, but let her mount unassisted otherwise. Then he adjusted the stirrup leathers. "Your legs are longer than I expected."

"Just because I'm short, you shouldn't think my legs are as short as Toby's," she shook her head.

"Straighten up your back, Megan. You're slouching as if you haven't got a spine, and I know better."

For the next hour, he was all teacher, impartial and honest with both of his students. He praised them when they got it right, corrected them when they got it wrong, and showed Megan how to hold the reins properly in one hand.

By the end of the lesson, Megan's legs felt unsteady, but she no longer felt apprehension about being in the saddle.

"You've got a nice, light touch," Devon complimented her, as she halted Dondi back where they'd started from. "Your balance is good. You do need to work on sitting up straight, though."

"Having a teacher who doesn't contradict himself every other sentence helps," Megan slid to the ground. "And Dondi really is a sweetheart. Thank you, Captain."

"I will see you tomorrow, at the same time," Devon told her. "By late summer, you may well be ready to ride one of the tall mares. Toby, escort Lady Megan to her chambers."

"Yes, Devon," Toby offered Megan his arm. "You did have fun, didn't you?"

"Yes, Toby, I did," she smiled.

"I told you," Brin grinned as she entered her rooms a short time later. "I am not looking at the face of someone who had a terrible time of it, my lady."

"The children chose me a wonderful little pony, and the Captain is a very good teacher," Megan admitted. "You're right on something else, as well. Once I am actually talking to him, my stomach doesn't knot so badly, and I can actually maintain the guise of intelligence. But oh, do my legs ache right now!"

"Your bath is waiting. And there are some letters for you," Brin helped her out of her riding boots first.

"Letters for me?" Megan frowned. That's when she noticed the floral arrangement on the table. It was large, gaudy, over-done, and almost all pale pink blooms. "Where did that come from?"

"Ah yes. The flowers are from Etienne de Courcy," Brin made a slight face.

"De Courcy? As in the xenophobic twit who ordered his guard to remove Teak from the royal nurseries at Yns Ays?"

"The same. A widower with a young daughter, who greatly desires a son, but is not willing to play the politics of Oberon's Court in search of a new bride," Brin informed her.

"Get rid of them, Brin. I won't be his pawn, and I will not accept gifts from bigots."

"I'll see them returned to him at Yns Ays," Brin promised. "The best way to deliver such a message is publicly."

There were four letters, which Megan took into the bath to read while she soaked. The first was from the Elvin Lord Leone, the second from some guardsman she didn't even recall meeting. There were four pages of rather flowery script and poor poetry from Sir Didymus.

"I'm tempted to blame Devon for this," Megan sighed. "Didymus is a sweet little thing, but really! And how do I get out of this without hurting his feelings?"

"Remind him he, as a knight, really does need an heir, and you can't give him one," Brin suggested. "It's worked for every female he's written poetry for so far."

"Brin!"

"The other option is I can talk to Hoggle," Brin offered. "I don't know how Hoggle does it, but he manages to steer Didymus on to other pastures."

"Who's Hoggle? I met Ludo at Solstice."

"Hoggle is a garden gnome, and very special to the queen. He and the king have a long running love-hate relationship," Brin explained. "Jareth loves to terrorize Hoggle, and Hoggle hates the fact he lets Jareth get away with it most of the time."

"Sounds like some pairs of brothers I know," Megan grinned slightly. Brin found the comment incredibly funny.

The last envelope was pale pink, smelled of roses, and was addressed in an elegant script using gold ink. A few grains of something sandy fell out into the water as Megan opened the noted.

"Lords of light, it's from Amberlee de Corsica," Megan grinned, glancing at the signature first. "She says she feels honour-bound to inform me her father has already begun negotiations with Duke Thierry on the subject of her marriage to Devon!"

"Duke Thierry would never!" Brin protested.

"He might, but I doubt if the female in question would be Amberlee de Corsica," Megan stated. "She's…" Megan stopped abruptly and erupted from the tub. The water had changed colour, turning a blood red. "What the hell is this?"

"Quick! We'll rinse you down, then worry about the tub and what caused it," Brin ordered, already filling a basin with clean water from the sink, and practically throwing it at Megan from the shoulders down. "There is no telling what that spoiled little brat might try."

"Oh wonderful! A female version of Mikkal?"

"Well, maybe not quite that spoiled," Brin amended. "But she has been making doe eyes at Captain Devon ever since she was formally Presented. That's when they're considered to be of marrying age."

"And how long has that been, exactly?"

"Oh, about three centuries now."

"Three centuries?" Megan felt herself go pale. "Brin, how old is Captain Devon?"

"Fey don't age like humans, Lady Megan. You know that," Brin wrapped a thick towel around her.

"How old?"

"On par with a human male in his prime," Brin hedged, leading Megan back to the bedroom, and trading the towel for a robe of storm grey quilted satin.

"Brin! How …old… is…Devon?" Megan demanded, emphasising each word like a gunshot.

"By human terms, he's eight hundred and twenty-nine," Brin admitted. Megan groaned, closed her eyes, and flopped into a chair. "Jareth's eight hundred and thirty-five. You don't see Sarah fussing over it."

"Find out what happened to the tub, Brin," Megan requested. "And keep it quiet, please. No sense in upsetting the Queen, King, or the Guards."

"Yes, my lady."


	15. Chapter 15

101

**Chapter 14.**

Before Brin could even leave the rooms, someone pounded on the outer door. The maid opened it, and Sarah swept in, followed by two guards.

"Megan, what happened?" Sarah demanded, ignoring Brin and going straight to the bedchamber.

"Your Majesty?" Megan tried to sound confused.

"The castle," Brin sighed. "The castle itself recognized the threat, Lady Megan."

"Yes, the castle itself recognized a threat," Sarah nodded. "I expect Jareth to either pop in unexpectedly, or come thundering along the normal way any moment now. So tell us what happened!"

"Show them the tub, Brin," Megan closed her eyes again. "We're alright, Sarah. Just…spooked. And we don't exactly know what happened."

Gimel followed Brin into the bath. The water in the tub was still blood red. Being very careful not to touch the water with his skin, Gimel filled a vial with some of the water.

"Brin, what exactly happened in here?" he asked calmly.

"Lady Megan was reading her mail while she soaked," Brin replied. "What looked like sand, or scent salts fell out of the last note. The water changed colour after that." She pointed to the pink paper on the tub-side table. "That's the one. It's from Lady Amberlee de Corsica." Gimel gingerly picked up both the note and the envelope, pleased to see the envelope still had some of the pale sand grains within. "I rinsed Lady Megan off quick, but…"

"I'll send Candon up to see her. Better safe than sorry," Gimel promised. They returned to the bedchamber. "Please leave the tub as it is, and don't touch it, until we can determine what happened to the water. It shouldn't take Clorin long. Healer Candon will be here shortly." He motioned to Thorn, and they left. "I need to see Jareth, and without Devon present, Thorn."

"Why?"

"Because when our good Captain finds out what happened, he's going to go ballistic, and I do not want to be in that fall-out," Gimel replied.

"Ah, your money is on him hooking up with Lady Megan, is it? I suppose she's pretty enough…"

"The Captain's interest in Lady Megan is only part of it," Gimel said. "Carefully, but read this." He handed Thorn the note. Thorn read it, and whistled.

"Maybe we ought to warn His Grace?"

"Splendid idea, Thorn. Go do it," Gimel didn't want to get caught in that fall-out, either. "I'll take these to Clorin, and speak to the king."

Candon was just hurrying up the front staircase when Jareth and Devon entered the castle, both looking like thunderclouds.

"All is under control Your Majesty," Gimel hurried to assure him. "But if I might have a word?"

"If all is under control, where is Candon going?" Jareth demanded.

"A precaution, Sire…"

"For whom?"

"Lady Megan," Gimel sighed. So much for not being around when Devon found out! "She received a note containing some sand-like substance, which turned the water in her bath blood red. Clorin is examining samples of both the sands grains and the water now. Lady Megan appears to be unharmed by the occurrence."

"Who was the note from, Gimel?" Devon asked.

"It is signed Amberlee de Corsica, Captain." Gimel wondered if he could get away with not telling Devon what was in the note.

"Why would she be writing to Megan?" Jareth's eyes narrowed. "They barely spoke at Oberon's court. In fact, I distinctly recall Amberlee de Corsica glaring more at Megan than doing anything else."

"Ah…"

"What was in the note, Gimel? Come on, I know you read it!"

"She wished to inform Lady Megan the Captain was not a free man upon which to fix her interests on," Gimel admitted, not looking at Devon.

"Say that again," Devon ordered in a low growl.

"Lady Amberlee informed Lady Megan that her father and yours were currently negotiating a marriage agreement between Lady Amberlee and yourself, sir," Gimel kept his eyes straight ahead. He wasn't a man who was afraid of much. The tempers of both his King and his Captain topped the short list.

"Where is my father, Gimel?"

"His Grace is in the Chancellor's Office, sir."

"Thank you. Your leave, Sire," Devon bowed curtly, and stalked off, not waiting for Jareth's permission.

"His Grace wouldn't, would he?" Gimel looked doubtfully at Jareth.

"His Grace would have no need to, since Declan in his heir, and Declan already has a son," Jareth hook his head. "Nor would Thierry see anything worth having in an alliance with de Corsica. I imagine Devon wishes to discuss the handling of this situation with his father, nothing more. Let's go see what Clorin's turned up."

"It was what?" Megan stared at Jareth in disbelief.

"Dried sand crystals from the Bog of Eternal Stench," Jareth repeated. "Amberlee must have hocked her soul to get even that small amount. I put a stop on the export of such things centuries ago. When it's dried like that, and in small amounts, there is no smell. Get the grains wet again, and it's another story. Clorin is still heaving his guts out."

"But Megan doesn't smell," Sarah pointed out. "She definitely got wet, but she doesn't smell."

"Very true. Clorin made an interesting discover," Jareth nodded. "At some point before you opened Amberlee's note, you must have had your left arm in the water, Megan."

"Yes," Megan frowned a little. "It was sore from my riding lesson, and there were a few petals stuck to the wound, so I held it under the water to soak them off."

"The combination of your blood chemistry and the Blood Rose serum in your system neutralized the sands that fell into the water," Jareth explained. "Quite interesting. I didn't think anything could get rid of that smell. Two of Clorin's assistants are in there now, bottling up every last drop of the water from your bath."

"Why that little bitch!" Megan was getting mad now. Anyone could tell, just from the lightening flashing in the stormy grey eyes. "Not only did she plan to keep Captain Devon away from me, she would have caused me to be completely exiled from intelligent companionship!""

"Except for Didymus. His nose doesn't work."

"Oh, thank you ever so much!"

"Do Devon and Thierry know any of this yet?" Sarah asked.

"By now, yes. I believe they are planning how to best deal with the Lady Amberlee," Jareth grinned, relishing the thought. Amberlee was too much like Adele for Jareth's tastes. He'd gladly see Devon as safe from Amberlee's clutches as he himself was from Adele's.

"No." Megan stood up.

"What do you mean, 'no'?"

"I mean it isn't up to them to deal with it," Megan stated, a hard glint in her eyes. "It's **_my_** ballgame."

"Are you sure you can come up with something suitably vile and embarrassing?" Jareth asked doubtfully. "We Fey do revenge quite well, you know."

"Never underestimate a human female from a large family, Your Majesty," Megan replied. "Which way to Clorin's lab?"

"What do you mean, it's being dealt with, Sire?" Thierry stood facing Jareth in the throne room. He and Devon had just asked Jareth for leave to ride out to the de Corsica estates in Avalon.

"Just what I said, Thierry," Jareth lounged on his throne. "It is being dealt with. In a deliciously devious manner, too."

"Your Majesty, this is a personal matter," Devon gritted his teeth.

"O could point out, since you aren't engaged to Megan, and she is technically under my protection, it isn't," Jareth replied. "But the lady herself has declared it a personal matter, and claim the rights of retribution."

"And just what has Megan done?"

"Why, I thanks her kindly for the information, and sent a gift as a token of my appreciation," Megan entered the room with Sarah. "It's nice to know my petals actually do have uses."

"Megan…" Devon's eyes narrowed. "What sort of gift?"

"The type all vain, pampered little beauties adore. Scented skin cream," Megan shrugged. "It won't be my fault if she breaks out on a most uncomfortable and hideous rash when she's used it." Thierry almost doubled over, laughing. Jareth smiled broadly. Sarah sat on the arm of the throne, also smugly amused. Devon snorted, rolling his eyes.

"What makes you so sure she'll use it?" he demanded.

"She won't be able to resist. Especially when she'll be under the impression her gift hasn't been triggered yet. She has got to be expecting some sort of fall out over that," Megan stated. "She signed the blasted note. I imagine she also has her own cover story just waiting to be trotted out. But she won't suspect me. After all, I am just a misplaced human female."

"With a very nasty streak."

"You'd better believe it, baby!" As soon as the words were out of her mouth, Megan blushed, and looked anywhere but Devon.

"The de Corsicas are still at Yns Ays, aren't they?" Devon looked at Jareth, who nodded. A wide, slightly evil grin spread across Devon's face. "Would it be too much to hope the rash won't appear until she's in public?"

"Not at all," Sarah grinned. "Clorin's a genius. The reaction won't even start until she is in a large group of people. But once it does start…she won't be able to hide fast enough!"

"How delightful! Too bad we won't get to witness it." Thierry dropped a kiss on Megan's forehead. "Clorin is not the only genius around here, my dear."

"And we aren't going to miss it," Jareth's eye glittered. "To Oberon's Court!"

"You know I'm always pleased to see you, Jareth," Oberon was alone in his throne room when the five appeared there. "All of you. But must you pop in without warning? I thought it was Tatiana, checking up on me!"

"Sorry Father." Jareth didn't sound the least bit so. "We've come for the evening feast. I expect everyone's off preparing for it."

"I expect so," Oberon nodded. "What devilment are you up to, boy?"

"Me? Absolutely none, Father!"

"Why don't I believe you?"

"This time, Your Majesty, he is telling the truth," Megan spoke up. "Tonight's devilment is all mine. A bit of a payback."

"Mikkal isn't here," Oberon frowned.

"Amberlee de Corsica is."

At Oberon's look of total bafflement, Thierry explained the entire situation, and Megan's revenge.

"The rash will not be permanent?" Oberon asked Megan.

"No, Sire," she assured him. "I'm not quite that cruel, despite what some people say. I just want to be very sure she gets the message."

"And which message would that be?"

"Do not mess with a Lewis."

"There will be another message, Sire, but I'll be delivering that one myself," Devon stated. Megan glanced at him, then lowered her eyes to her own toes. She had no idea what he meant, and she wasn't about to ask!

"She may realize something is afoot, when she sees the five of you," Oberon pointed out.

"By then, it will be too late," Megan smirked.


	16. Chapter 16

108

**Chapter 15.**

"Are you sure it's safe, my lady?" Amberlee's maid sniffed doubtfully at the jar of scented cream.

"Of course it is!" Amberlee insisted. "The sands haven't worked yet, or the Goblin King would have arrived breathing fire already. Megan Lewis is a foolish little human without the sense to latch onto a prince stupid enough to want her. She'd hardly suspect me of being so creative. And when accused, I shall weep and deny all knowledge of anything but the gift she sent me. Everyone at Court knows I like roses, and use pale pink paper and gold ink. Anyone could have sent that note to Megan, and signed my name to it, hoping to eliminate two rivals with one throw. I shall be as much an injured party as the human. Only it will be much easier for my handsome captain to comfort me than her." She grabbed the jar and began to work some of the cream into her own hands. "Oh, it feels like silk! Hurry up, Marta! And remind me to find out where she got it. I will be wanting more of it!"

Oberon ordered a few last minute changes to the banquet. Thierry, as the new Lord Chancellor of the Goblin Kingdom, was to sit at the head table with the Royals. Megan and Devon would once more be seated across from Amberlee and her dinner partner. And they would be close to the front of the hall, where the only way out was back past all the other guests.

"Why do you delay, my lord?" Tatiana asked, her hand resting lightly on Oberon's.

"Oh, just waiting for the perfect moment, my love," Oberon replied. At that moment, the resemblance between him and Jareth, especially around the eyes, was even more marked.

"Jareth, what are you up to?" Tatiana demanded.

"Not me, Step-mother," Jareth shook his head. "Justice."

"From the look on her partner's face, it's started," Megan had been peeking into the banquet hall. "We can go in now, Your Majesty."

The reaction began with the breakdown of the cream's scent. Instead of the heady perfume of roses, Amberlee was starting to smell faintly of blood. Too polite to actually say anything, both her dinner partner and the young lord on her other side leaned away from her.

Almost as soon as that started, so did the itching. And that rapidly increased to an almost unbearable level.

"I…I'm feeling quite unwell…" Amberlee muttered, beginning to rise. At that moment, the fanfare heralded Oberon and Tatiana's arrival. Amberlee was trapped. Once the Royal Couple entered the hall, no guest dared leave it until the meal was over, and the King gave leave for departures.

Devon escorted Megan to her seat, held her chair for her, and let his hand linger on her shoulder. Megan smiled up at him.

"Lady Megan, how lovely you look this evening," Amberlee's partner smiled across the table at Megan. "We had not heard you planned to return to Court so soon."

"Thank you, Lord Tamas," Megan inclined her head slightly. "We hadn't planned on returning so soon, but there were a few ...details which needed to be established, rumours to be lain to rest, that sort of thing."

"Rumours, eh? And which would they be?"

"Now, Lord Tamas, I'll have you know I never indulge in gossip," she shook her head.

"I do, on occasion," Devon announced. "Have you heard any of the latest wedding bell tales? It seems someone has put it out a Duke's son is on the brink of matrimony. Which he may well be, since no one is ever sure what he's up to. But the supposed bride! Why, I've heard him say myself she'd be far more suited to a master merchant in Par Valon than a ducal coronet!"

Amberlee, trying desperately not to scratch or wiggle, blanched when those sea-blue eyes turned her way.

"Amazing how silly tales get around, isn't it, Lady Amberlee?" Devon inquired politely.

"Quite," she murmured, lowering her gaze to her hands. She just managed to stifle the gasp that rose in her throat when she saw the ugly purple welts raising on her white skin.

"I do thank you for your thoughtful note, Lady Amberlee," Megan smiled sweetly. "And the scented salts. They were very unique. King Jareth himself wonders how you came by them."

"I don't…" Amberlee began to deny it.

"I know your hand, my lady," Devon interrupted her. "Having received many… kind invitations in the past." The way he said 'invitations' had every male within hearing snickering. Quite a few of the females did, as well.

"Captain Devon, mind your manners," Megan ordered lightly. "You've made the poor girl blush, and the natural pink stain seems to be clashing terribly with her rash."

Amberlee's hands flew to her cheeks. She could feel the welts there, and on her neck. Now the gentlemen flanking her didn't just lean away, the dragged their chairs as far from her as possible. Amberlee was nearly in tears, and could no longer keep from scratching.

"You did this!" She hissed at Megan.

"I received a gift, and returned one in kind," Megan shrugged. She felt no pity for the other woman. Clorin's lab hadn't been completely disinfected with her bath water before she and Sarah arrived, and the smell of the bog had made her physically ill.

"How?"

"In the beginning, and in the end, it all comes down to blood," Megan said cryptically. Devon's arm rested across the back of her chair, and he tugged gently on one stray reddish curl, smiling possessively.

With a strangled cry, Amberlee bolted, knocking into a server and sending a tray crashing to the floor. Her flight was impeded by other servants, who managed not to lose their trays. Most of the guests got a very good look at the stricken beauty on her way out.

"Beauty is as beauty does," Devon commented.

"I forgot to ask how long that was going to last," Jareth watched Amberlee's flight.

"About a month, I believe Clorin said," Sarah informed him.

"That should be long enough to completely put an end to her attempts at social climbing at Devon's expense," Jareth decided.

"She'd have died an old maid before Devon ever married her," Thierry stated. "She can't ride, she can't sing, she can barely play the piano, she can't carry on an intelligent conversation for more than five minutes, and she doesn't like being anywhere near goblins."

"We haven't heard Megan sing."

"That's about the only thing she hasn't at least attempted," Sarah pointed out.

As usual, there was music and dancing following the banquet. Megan was even willing to try a few of the dances she'd been learning from Master Talis, and Devon was most often her partner. It was almost dawn before Jareth whisked them all back to the castle beyond the Goblin City.

"Did it work?" Brin asked, helping Megan change into her nightdress.

"She must have practically taken a bath in the stuff," Megan nodded. "She didn't even last through the first course!" She hummed as she changed.

"What song is that?"

"Hu? Oh, it's from a human musical," Megan smiled. "In the show, it's sung by a girl named Eliza. She's just returned from her first Grand Ball, she's realized she's in love, and she's on the top of her world."

"So there are words," Brin smiled, thinking Megan, in describing Eliza, had also described herself.

"Of course there is," Megan laughed.

Bed! Bed! I couldn't go to bed!  
My head's too light to try to set it down! Sleep! Sleep!  
I couldn't sleep tonight.  
Not for all the jewels in the crown!  
I could have danced all night!  
I could have danced all night!  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings  
And done a thousand things I've never done before.  
I'll never know What made it so exciting;  
Why all at once My heart took flight. I only know when he  
Began to dance with me I could have danced,  
danced, danced all night!  
I could have danced all night!  
I could have danced all night!  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings  
And done a thousand things I've never done before.  
I'll never know What made it so exciting.  
Why all at once my heart took flight.  
I only know when he  
Began to dance with me.  
I could have danced, danced, danced all night!  
I could have danced all night,  
I could have danced all night.  
And still have begged for more.  
I could have spread my wings,  
And done a thousand things I've never done before.  
I'll never know What made it so exciting.  
Why all at once my heart took flight. I only know when he  
Began to dance with me I could have danced, danced,  
danced All night!"

She kept her voice soft. The children, Nanny, and Teak were all sleeping, and she didn't want to disturb them.

"Maybe some singing lessons, my lady," Brin teased lightly.

"No, I usually leave signing in public to others," Megan shook her head. "I do miss my mandolin, though. Oh well. If I don't get some sleep, I'll be the one falling asleep in class!"


	17. Chapter 17

114

**Chapter 16.**

The afternoon of Toby's birthday, Sarah sent for Megan to join her in the Queen's solar.

"Lady Megan is here, Your Majesty," Oona, Sarah's maid, announced, then withdrew. Sarah looked up from her desk, and Megan could see the worry in her friend's green eyes.

"Megan, I have a big favour to ask," the pretty queen rose. "Actually, several. You do know Jareth's kingdom isn't limited to the Labyrinth and the Goblin City…"

"Of course I do," Megan nodded. "The schoolroom map is incredibly detailed and scaled. What's wrong, Sarah?"

"Someone's been inciting major trouble in the border region, especially where there are human enclaves," Sarah explained. "Jareth and I must go and find out who's behind it, and put a stop to it. We leave at first light…"

"The children will be fine, Sarah," Megan promised. "They have Teak, Nanny and me here to keep an eye on them for you. The castle will be fine, because Marg and Vatel won't let it be any other way. Duke Thierry will keep everything else running smoothly."

"Jareth is leaving Hoggle in charge of the Labyrinth, in the slim chance someone ends up challenging it while we're away," Sarah began pacing.

"Sarah, what are you trying not to say, that you know you have to?" Megan asked.

"You know that Mikkal was remanded to the custody of the Kings of Oak and Holly." Sarah drew a deep breath, and turned to face Megan. "He skipped out."

"What, he went running home to mommy when the Kings got tough?" Megan wasn't particularly surprised.

"He's not in Par Valon," Sarah shook her head. "In fact, Oberon has no idea where he is…"

"Which means he's being helped, and it still may be Jalina," Megan guessed. "Sarah, I promise I won't leave the castle-City-Labyrinth area. Devon told me Mikkal can't come into this region without Jareth's permission. So, stop worrying, because I'm not. Pay attention to the problems at hand."

"You're sure?" Sarah asked. "Devon won't be here…"

"I figured that out when you said you were going with Jareth," Megan smiled. "When both Royals go, the Royal Guard must go. I'll deal. What about Claire's birthday?"

"Jareth and I, at least, will be here for that," Sarah stated. "But it's going to be up to you and Marg and Vatel to actually plan it, I'm afraid."

"Sarah, I come from a large family. Big parties were the norm," Megan reminded, chuckling. "You and Thierry may never let me deal with another one, but I guarantee the children, the goblins, and most likely Jareth, will love it."

After supper that evening, Megan wrapped her favourite cloak around her shoulders, and went to walk along the walled gardens which over-looked the City.

"Good evening, Megan," Devon joined her there.

"Shouldn't you be having an early night of it, Devon?" Megan inquired. "I have learned when Jareth says 'early' he means early!"

"Soon," Devon claimed her hand and placed it on his arm. "It is still early, and I want to show you a few things." He led her off the path, to the wall itself. Without warning, he grabbed her waist, and swung her up to sit on the stones.

"Devon!" Megan gripped his shoulders, and glanced down at the outside of the wall. "That's a very long drop, Devon."

"I won't let you fall, Megan," he promised. His long fingers were warm and firm at her waist. "You're so tiny, I have to find you a booster when I want to see your face."

"I'm five-two. I can't help it if you're six-foot-something," she shook her head.

"Like I said, you're tiny," his tone was teasing. "Is everyone in your family so short?"

"Only the females," Megan sighed. "We range from four-eleven to five- four. None of the guys over sixteen are under five-ten."

"So the women in your family are all little china dolls."

"Excuse you! We are far too tough to be china dolls," Megan snorted.

"You just look like china dolls, then," he amended. Then he got serious. "You will stay close to the castle while we're gone, won't you? Sarah and Jareth will be home for Claire's birthday, but I'm not sure if I will. It's been centuries since the last out-break of anti-non-fey actions. Jareth wants a quick end to it…"

"I'll be fine, Devon," she promised. "I'm really not made of glass, and my arm is healing."

"I don't trust Mikkal, especially when I don't know where he's at," Devon scowled.

"I don't particularly trust him when I **_do _**know where he's at. But he can't come here."

"I need to tell you something," Devon sighed. "About Mikkal, and me…"

"I already know you're cousins," Megan said, relaxing her grip on one shoulder so she could play with the silky golden hair curling around his ear. "Part of Toby's lessons include heraldry and genealogy. Your grandmother was born Princess Royal of Par Valon, sister to Rois's father. I may blame Rois a bit for how spoiled Mikkal is, but that's as far as it goes. You are not like Mikkal."

"I wasn't sure how you'd react, just the same," Devon said. "Usually, I don't mention the connection, because some females are only interested in me because of it. With you, I was afraid you'd never speak to me again."

"Some females are daft," Megan shrugged. "Me, I'm just mad."

"Still on that, are you?" he asked.

"Sorry. Years of being told the realms of Fey didn't exist," she smiled slightly.

"Doesn't it feel real?" he challenged. "Doesn't **_this_** feel real?" His lips found hers ready and waiting. Megan's eyes fluttered closed as she gave herself to the kiss, and the heat rising in her body. Her hands slid further over her shoulders, one sinking into the thick waves of golden hair. "Well?"

"Um…. Could we try that again? Just so I'm sure?" She glanced up through her lashes at him.

"As my lady desires," Devon claimed her lips a second time.

"Very nice," Megan murmured. "Yes, it definitely feels real."

"Good." Devon swung her down from the wall. "Come along. I have something for you, but it's inside." He hurried her along to the music room. "A little bird told me you play the mandolin. I'm not sure Jareth even knows what one is, so I asked Oona to help me find this."

On the top of the Grand Piano was a white leather case. Inside, nestled in the silver velvet lining, was a bowl-backed mandolin of gleaming rosewood strung with silver and gold. The oval sound hole was surrounded by mother-of-pearl inlaid flowers. The fittings were of bronze and ivory.

"It's exquisite, Devon!" Megan reverently lifted it from the case, checked the tuning and found it perfect. "But…"

"I don't know when your birthday is, and I gave you nothing at Solstice," he said gently. "Music is important to the soul, Megan. The Fey know that. Would you honour me with a song?" He took a seat on one of the plump little settees.

"I'll play, I won't sing," she told him. "You don't need nightmares." She thought for a moment, then played him one of her favourite O'Carolan pieces. When she finished, she carefully placed the mandolin back into the case, and turned back to Devon. "It is one of the most wonderful instruments I have ever even laid eyes on, let alone been privileged to play. Thank you, Devon." She leaned over to kiss him, and found herself sitting on his lap.

Several minutes later, Devon sighed, and set her firmly on her feet.

"If you don't go back upstairs now, and I don't get to my own chambers, Jareth will find us right here in the morning," he stated ruefully.

"If it weren't for the fact I know you have to leave early, I wouldn't care," Megan replied, closing the mandolin case, and cradling it in her arms. "Good night, Devon. Sweet dreams." She left him sitting there.

"Sweet?" Devon groaned, not standing until she was gone. He hadn't wanted Megan to realize just how much she'd affected him. He glanced at the far end of the room, where a barn owl sat, unmoving, on a music stand. "And you! What's the big idea? I don't spy on you and Sarah!" The owl took flight, heading in his direction. Jareth landed at Devon's side.

"You have interrupted me a few times at some inopportune moments," Jareth pointed out, completely unrepentant. "At least I didn't interrupt you. But are you sure you'll be able to ride a horse in the morning?"


	18. Chapter 18

124

**Chapter 17.**

The children were fine for the first two days their parents were away. The third night, Claire whimpered and tossed fitfully in her sleep, prompting Teak to run for Nanny. The night after that, the little girl woke up screaming and nearly inconsolable. Candon had been sent for, but could find nothing wrong with her.

The night after that, Toby's nightmares began. Nanny, already trying to calm Claire, had sent Teak for Megan.

By the end of the first week, no one in the Royal Apartments was getting a decent night's sleep. Candon, because of their ages, didn't want to give the children sleeping potions. Instead, during the day, Megan, Nanny and Assistant Healer Sahan tried to discover the underlying causes of the nightmares.

Then Megan began to have nightmares as well. At first, it was just the same scene, over and over: the truck crashing through the showroom window, and Jolene's terrified face. Two nights later, the dreams changed. Now they involved Devon, usually being tortured or killed.

Two days before Claire's birthday, Megan woke from another terrifying vision, and was half-way to the nursery when Toby's screams made the castle tremble.

"Toby!" Megan burst in, going right to his bed, and scooping him up. Nanny was already pacing the nursery, a sobbing Claire in her arms. Megan carried Toby to the rocking chair, and sat down. He was too big for her to pace with. "Toby, it's alright. I was just a bad dream, sweetheart."

"Flames," Toby moaned, clinging to her. "And gunshots, an' Sarah screaming. Jareth didn't come!" Megan frowned. She knew the story now, how Sarah had saved her half-brother and half-sister by wishing them all away to the safety of Jareth's realm the night their parents had been murdered. She also knew Jareth had blocked the children's memories of that night for just this reason. Toby never called Jareth or Sarah anything but Father and Mommy now.

"Brin, fetch Candon," Megan requested of the maid, who'd also come running in response to Toby's screams. Every servant assigned to the Royal Apartments had. "The rest of you, go back to bed. No sense in all of us being awake all night. We'll need some of you fresh in the morning."

Marg came with Candon and Sahan, pushing a cart ahead of her.

"Warm milk for the children. Something a bit stronger for you and Nanny," the housekeeper told Megan.

"No thank you, Marg. I need to be able to respond if they need us again tonight," Megan shook her head.

"You'll be of no use if you don't get some sleep yourself, Lady Megan."

"I'll take a nap tomorrow," Megan promised. "A few of the maids can keep an eye on the children for an hour or so in the afternoon, and Nanny and I will both get some sleep."

During the day, things were normal. Megan and Nanny managed to get two hours of decent rest. They sat up that night in the nursery, and were able to spot the warning signs in the children. Nanny cuddled Claire, and Megan rocked Toby until both settled. Only then did Megan seek her own bed, leaving Brin and Fee to watch over the children.

She woke just before dawn, choking back a scream of her own, shaking badly, and her face wet with tears. The look of pain on Devon's face had been terrifyingly real. The faces of his tormenters hadn't been clear, but she's known they were human. Only humans could wield the cold iron used to cut into Devon's flesh. And this time, Mikkal had been somehow present in the dream, calling her to watch the carnage.

Megan realised even though she was now awake, she could still hear Mikkal's voice calling her name. Which could mean only one thing. He had to be there, just beyond the Labyrinth, waiting for her. And he was somehow connected to the nightmares, the children's as well as her own.

She dressed quickly in the dove grey riding habit, and practically ran to the stables, praying all the way she wouldn't be seen, wouldn't be stopped and questioned.

It was still so early, no one saw her tide away from the castle.

Mikkal was exactly where she expected to find him, on the windswept hill above the Labyrinth. He was leaning against the treeclock with a smug, expectant look on his face.

"You are an idiot, Mikkal. If Jareth catches you anywhere in his kingdom…" Megan pulled Dondi to a stop well away from him.

"Jareth and his human are all the way on the other side of the kingdom, chasing shadows," Mikkal said confidently. "I'm not foolish enough to challenge the Goblin King face to face on his own ground, Megan."

"What do you want?"

"Come now, my dear. You know what I want," he leered at her.

"And I already told you, several times, hell will freeze over before I marry you," Megan snapped.

"I wouldn't be so hasty, my sweet Meg," Mikkal shook his head, pushing away from the treeclock. "You and the children aren't sleeping well. Nightmares are such terrifying things."

"You bastard." Megan felt herself grow cold. Dreams were supposed to be sacred.

"I think my mother would take serious exception to that, my dear," Mikkal's expression was still smug, still confident. She wanted to kick it off his face. "I won't stop until I get what I want, Megan."

"Even if it means terrorizing innocent children who have nothing to do with the situation? You are beyond disgusting, Mikkal!"

"Jareth used children…"

"Jareth never terrorized either of his children! He never terrorized any child that young, that innocent!" Megan snarled. "You keep saying you're just following in the footsteps of the Goblin King, but you're so far off the path, you're completely lost and too stupid to know it!"

"You alone can save me, then. And save the brats while you're at it," Mikkal moved closer. "If you come away with me, become my wife, I swear I will leave them alone. If you don't, the nightmares will get worse, for you as well as them. And then, the nightmares will become the reality."

"You don't have that power," she shook her head. Par Valon's magic was not over dreams. That she was fairly sure of.

"Are you sure?" Mikkal challenged. "Can you afford to be wrong?"

The visions crowded into her mind: Toby, whimpering about flames and gunshots; Claire crying herself sick; Devon's battered, bloodied, lifeless body. Was she sure? Could she risk it?

"I want your Oath, Mikkal," she said firmly. "If I agree to go with you, to marry you, you will leave Toby and Claire alone, and never threaten them or harm them in any way, ever. You will quit invading my dreams as well, and none of the nightmares will become reality."

"You have my word on it."

"Your word isn't worth shit, Mikkal," Megan snorted. "You gave Oberon your word that you'd do your time with the Kings of Oak and Holly, and leave me alone. Your Oath, or no chance."

"Very well," he sighed. "Megan, you have my Oath if you leave with me, and agree to be my wife, I will cease interfering with the dreams of Claire and Toby. I will not bring their nightmares, or yours, into reality."

"Then we have an agreement," Megan nodded. She felt her heart freeze, and her arm ached, but she'd done it. She had to, to protect the children and Devon.

"Good! We can leave right now." He reached for her.

"No, not now," she shook her head. "It's Claire's birthday. If I leave now, I'd be missed very quickly, and you'd be the first one they'd suspect. Tomorrow morning, just before dawn, I will meet you here. You have my Oath on that."

"Until tomorrow morning, my love." Mikkal grabbed her, pulling her from the saddle, and kissed her. It was brutal and demanding, and Megan felt sick. "Something to seal our bargain, and provide you with more pleasant dreams."

"I have to get back. The children will be waking up, and I will be looked for," Megan pulled away. She couldn't get back into the saddle fast enough.

From a clump of bushes, a watery pair of eyes watched her ride off down the road through the forest. Hoggle waited until the Fey prince vanished, then scurried down the zig-zagging path to the Labyrinth. Jareth was not going to be happy when he found out Mikkal had entered the Goblin Kingdom. The dwarf only wished he'd been close enough to actually hear the conversation. Megan hadn't looked happy, and Mikkal had looked far too smug for Hoggle's tastes.

"You're out early, Megan."

"Devon!" Megan wheeled from Dondi's stall, and nearly fell against the Captain's tall form.

"Easy lass!" Devon chuckled, catching her. "I missed you, too." He bent to kiss her, and Megan clung to him. "Megan, what is it? You look as if you haven't slept."

"Not much," she admitted. "The children…didn't deal well with the separation from their parents. They've been having nightmares. More like night terrors, actually. Poor Toby even had dreams of the night his birth parents died."

"That is not good," Devon frowned. "I know Jareth took steps against that."

"I know. But stress can do strange things," she linked arms with him, and started back inside. "I don't know about you, but I haven't had breakfast yet."

"You were out early!"

"I couldn't sleep. The children's nightmares triggered a few of my own," she told him. "How did it go?"

"Things have quieted down," he reported. "It was a bit strange. It seems no one could actually recall what had stirred up the trouble. We'll be looking into that further. Both Jareth and I have our suspicions…"

"The former Chancellor, Garthon, and His Grace, Duke Dumont," Megan guessed.

"Proving either was involved may be impossible," Devon sighed. "Garthon is in Par Valon, and he is not high born enough to have the ability of translocation. Dumont's estate is in another part of the kingdom, and Oberon has already stripped him of the ability of translocation. Both would have been very careful to cover their tracks. Fermenting unrest is treason, and proven traitors have very limited options. Banishment is automatic. It can be to Annwn's Shadelands… and Arawn is a harsher lord than Oberon or Jareth. They may end up in the UnSeelie Court, but Huon does not have vast lands to bestow, and charges supplicants for their entrance. The last is exile to the world of men, completely stripped of Fey Magic."

"Oh, that would go over well with Dumont's daughter!" Megan snorted. "She might be able to land herself a rich, powerful husband, but he'd be human. And she'd age as humans do…and probably not as gracefully as most."

"Sarah's told you about Adel," Devon guessed. "Well, leave it, at least for today. This is Claire's day, and it shouldn't be marred by ugliness."

"Jareth, I need to talk to you," Hoggle entered Jareth's private office. He'd expected to find the king in the throne room, but that chamber was closed off and marked out of bounds this morning.

"Well, hello to you too, Hogshead," Jareth smirked. "If it's about the fairy swarm, you know the answer."

"It's about Mikkal," Hoggle stated. Jareth's smirk vanished. "I saw him, on the hill by the treeclock. Lady Megan met him there at dawn."

"Are you sure?" Jareth demanded.

"Yes," Hoggle nodded. "She didn't look to glad to see him, but …"

"But what? Quit hemming and hawing, you little scab!"

"He kissed her before he let her come back to the castle. Looked like a Kiss of Claiming to me," Hoggle looked miserable. "And I know the power of a Fey kiss. What's he up to, Jareth?"

"Still trying to lure Megan into his bed, I would imagine," Jareth was still frowning, but he relaxed a bit.

"With that kiss…"

"It won't do him any good," Jareth shook his head. "It's not her first, and the first one was backed up with emotion on both sides."

"That's something, I guess," Hoggle sounded doubtful. "What are you going to do?"

"For now, just watch. Mikkal's very good at tripping himself up. Even better than you, Hogsbreath."

"It's Hoggle!"


	19. Chapter 19

130

**Chapter 18.**

Claire's party got underway shortly after lunch. Megan had, with the help of Marg and the staff, transformed the throne room into a little girl's dream. Pillows in pastel satin covered the throne and filled the pit before it. Balloons and streamers were everywhere. In one alcove was the cake; as large as Ludo, covered with pink icing, with marzipan fairies dancing up the tiers. There was a magician, and musicians, performing animals, a pony ride, and all sorts of games and activities to keep little guests occupied.

"Oh my god," Sarah's jaw fell as she stared around the room. Claire darted off t o join the fun, followed by Toby and Teak. "Megan!"

"This is mild," Megan shrugged. "Chancellor Thierry drew the line at the baby elephant. That's why we had to go with the pony ride."

"Megan!"

"Oh, lighten up, Sarah!" Jareth ordered lightly. "Claire's already enjoying herself." There were children everywhere, representing every race in the kingdom. "You've done us proud, Megan."

"Wait until you see the bills, Sire," Thierry warned dryly.

"It's only money," Jareth shrugged.

"It will take her hours just to open all those presents," Devon grinned, waving one hand at the long table groaning at the weight of the stack of gaily wrapped gifts.

"Don't count on it. One thing Claire is very good at is demolishing wrapping paper," Sarah stated.

Megan spent the afternoon moving between groups of children, making sure everyone had fun, and things didn't get out of hand. By the end of it, she was more than glad to leave the clean up to someone else, bundle up the little guests back to their parents, and escape to the calm of the Royal Apartments.

Supper was a light meal, and quiet. She, Nanny, Teak, Devon and Thierry dined with the family.

"Someone had more than enough excitement today," Sarah smiled as Claire fell asleep with her head on her plate. Toby's eyes were nearly closed as well. "Nanny, Megan, we'll put them to bed ourselves tonight. Come on, Teak." She lifted Clair from her seat, and Jareth followed with Toby.

"I just hope the poor tykes get a full night's sleep," Thierry commented, watching the royal family leave the room.

"Oh, I'm sure they will, Your Grace," Megan said. "Their parents are home now. As long as Sarah and Jareth are close by, nothing can hurt Toby or Claire, and they know it."

"It's been a very long day," Nanny rose. "I will bid you all good night."

"Megan, will you come for a stroll in the gardens?" Devon invited.

"I'd like that, yes," Megan nodded. "I'll just need to get my cloak."

She chose the peacock blue wool with the badge of the Goblin King on the breast.

"Nothing is ever quite what it seems," she said, strolling with her arm linked through Devon's. "This is the Goblin Kingdom. Goblins don't have a very good reputation. Yet, Teak is so devoted to Toby and Claire. I've sat and listened to Goblin mothers sing lullabies to their babies. And Ceile! That one's talent with material and needle and thread would make Paris designers weep in envy!"

"You're very … thoughtful tonight, Megan," Devon commented.

"I get a bit maudlin when I'm over-tired," she shrugged.

"You seemed convinced the children would sleep tonight," he said. "What about you? Do you think you'll have only pleasant dreams tonight?"

"I suppose that remains to be seen," she sighed.

"Megan, something is troubling you," Devon frowned, stopped, and lifted her chin. "What is it?"

"I told you, Devon. I'm just tired," she managed a small smiled. "But I wouldn't miss a walk in the moonlight with you for anything."

Brin helped her change for bed, but then Megan dismissed her for the night, and sat brushing her own hair until she was sure she was alone. Her favourite peacock blue robe still lay draped over the chair by the window. Her beloved mandolin, safe in its case, sat in the chair. She wouldn't take anything else away with her, not even Dondi. She knew Hoggle would find the little pony well before noon. Let Mikkal foot the bill for a complete new wardrobe; she'd still control her own style. She grinned mirthlessly in the dark, imagining his face when confronted by high-necked, long-sleeved granny nighties. She'd agreed to wed him; she hadn't said anything about bedding him.

There was something else she didn't plan to take with her; her class ring. Here in the Goblin Kingdom, she had never had to worry about it being stolen. It rarely left her finger. It was part of her, a connection to her past. That, she meant to leave for Devon.

The castle was dark and silent as she made her way to Devon's chambers. Since she didn't really want gossip springing up….or, at least not more than her disappearance would engender to begin with…she planned to leave the ring and note in his rooms. It gave her an excuse for sneaking a peek at him while he slept. She doubted she'd see him again, once she'd left with Mikkal.

Devon had just blown out the candle by the bed when he heard the outer door of his chambers open, then close again softly. The castle had raised no warning, so whoever it was meant him no harm. Still, who would be sneaking into his rooms in the dead of night? He slipped out of bed, and padded across the room to stand behind the bed chamber door. Then he waited.

Megan crept across the sitting room, hardly daring to breath. For a heartbeat, she'd thought she'd heard something, but all was still. She pushed open the bed chamber door slowly. The room beyond was dark, the curtains on the bed closed. She stepped into the room…

And shrieked a little when a hand clamped over her mouth, and an arm like a steel band closed around her.

"Megan, what are you doing here?" Devon demanded. He snapped his fingers, and the candle sprang to life again. Megan was shaking so badly, he was afraid if he let her go, she'd collapse.

"I…I…" Megan swallowed hard. This hadn't been in her plans. One hand came in contact with a well-muscled thigh behind her, and she groaned, closing her eyes. Why was she surprised to find out he slept in the nude? "I had another nightmare," she offered weakly.

"So you came to my chambers?" Devon felt safe enough in smirking a little. Megan couldn't see his face with her eyes shut tight.

"It was very vivid. I…I had to prove to myself it was just a dream, and that you were actually alright, asleep in your own bed," Megan explained, daring to look up at his face. It was the only safe place to look. It wasn't a total lie, she told herself.

"It must have been vivid. You're still shaking like a leaf," he steered her over to the bed, where he sat down. "As you can see, I'm fine."

"You certainly are," Megan said without thinking. Then she blushed furiously. "I mean…" she closed her eyes again.

"Megan, looked at me," Devon caught her chin, lifting her face to face him. "Come on, open your eyes. You can't tell me you don't know what the male body looks."

"Of course I do!" Her eyes snapped open. "I've got brothers, I've gone to art galleries and movies, I've babysat. I've just never…"

"Never been so close to a naked adult male," he guessed, smiling slightly.

"Precisely," she nodded.

"Well, look all you like," he invited. "I don't mind at all."

"Fey arrogance?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Maybe," he admitted. "You're still shaking. Maybe you're cold?" She shouldn't be, she thought. Not with the way Devon was looking at her!

"Devon, will you think I'm an unmitigated hussy if I ask you to hold me tonight?" she asked in a whisper.

"I'm not sure I could do that, and not take it further," Devon warned. In truth, he knew damn well if she stayed, he would take it further. Megan untied the belt of her robe, and dropped the robe to the floor. Devon felt his breath catch. Megan had more generous curves than Fey women did. And she was making an offer. "Are you very, very sure?" His voice was soft as he wrapped his arms around her.

"You already have my heart," Megan brushed her lips across his. "Help me keep the nightmares away, Devon. At least for tonight."

"Not just tonight, Megan," he lay back, pulling her down on top of him. "All nights."

Jareth banished the orb. Megan was safe, spending the night in Devon's arms. Knowing Devon, the next step of the Bonding would take place. There was no way Mikkal would be able to break that Bond, or force Megan into acting against her will. Jareth didn't need to watch the act; he'd rather follow his friend's example.

"Oh Sarah…"


	20. Chapter 20

137

**Chapter 19.**

Megan woke up in the dark, curled against Devon's chest. His deep, even breathing told her he was still fast asleep. She managed to slip from his arms, and the bed, without waking him. She didn't dare light the candle to look for her nightdress. She settled for grabbing her robe, leaving the ring and the note on the pillow by his head, fled.

Hoggle saw her ride out. He waited expectantly for several minutes, watching the windows of the Royal Apartment.

"Damn you, Jareth!" Hoggle muttered, heading for the castle. "You said you were going to watch her!"

Jareth was not pleased to be woken early by an angry pounding at the door.

"Jareth?" Sarah asked sleepily. "What…"

"Go back to sleep, Sarah," Jareth stalked across the room and yanked open the door. "This had better be important, Hogdung!"

"You said you were gonna watch her!" Hoggle glared at him.

"She's safe! She's in Devon's bed."

"Who's in Devon's bed?" Sarah demanded.

"Megan."

"She's not! She just rode out," Hoggle deliberately did not look at Sarah. "And Mikkal is already on the hill."

With a curse, Jareth shimmered into owl form, and flew out the window.

"Hoggle, what is going on?" Sarah demanded. "You can look, I'm decent." She'd pulled her robe around herself tightly.

"Megan met Mikkal at the treeclock yesterday," Hoggle explained. "I told Jareth! Mikkal was too smug. Now Megan's gone to meet him again."

"Oh Megan," Sarah sighed. "You'd better go get Devon."

"Why me?"

"Because I said so," Sarah shooed him out the door. "And because I have to get dressed."

Devon woke, reached for Megan, and found himself alone. He smiled, thinking she must have slipped off back to her own chambers before the servants were about. Well, soon enough, she wouldn't have to worry about that. They were already half-Bonded. Jareth would be happy enough to witness the rest, the formal parts. And then he and Megan could claim the unused family apartments below the Royal Apartments.

When he saw the ring, and read the note, his smiled widened. It was going to be a very good day indeed. He was still smiling when he opened the door to Hoggle.

"Good morning, Hoggle!"

"You're too damn cheerful," Hoggle complained. "Sarah says you better hurry up and get to the treeclock."

"Why? What's wrong?"

"Prince Mikkal's what wrong," Hoggle snapped. "Lady Megan's gone to meet him on the hill."

"You're lying." Devon felt his blood go cold.

"I only wish," Hoggle said miserably. "You better go, Captain. Jareth's already there."

Mikkal was already waiting against the tree. He smirked when Megan rode up.

"I'm very pleased to see you, my dearest," he pulled her from the saddle.

"I've kept my part of the deal, Mikkal," she turned her face away from him before he could kiss her. "Keep yours. Or I swear your father will need a new heir. Because there is nothing Oberon could do to me that would keep me from killing you if something happens to those I am leaving behind."

"Well, well. What have we here?" Jareth's laconic voice made them both jump. He was sitting on the stone wall near the road. "Running away from your keepers is in bad form."

"Forgive me, Sire, for slipping away like a thief," Megan looked at the ground.

"I was speaking to Mikkal, not you," Jareth uncurled his long legs, and leapt lightly to the ground as Devon appeared on the scene.

"She has chosen me!" Mikkal declared triumphantly. Devon's face could have been carved from stone, and Megan's heart broke to see it.

"Megan?" Jareth asked, raising one eyebrow.

"I made a deal, Your Majesty," Megan admitted. "I agreed to go with him. I…" she shrugged helplessly. "I gave my Oath to meet him here."

"She chose me," Mikkal repeated with a smirk. "And you cannot interfere, Goblin King. Rules are rules."

"My kingdom, my rules," Jareth stated. "Megan, get back on your pony, and return to the castle."

"She gave me her Oath!"

"I kept it. I gave you my Oath that I would be here, and I was," Megan climbed back into the saddle, glad Jareth had given her a direct order. "Devon, I…" Devon turned his gaze on her briefly, and Megan's words died on her lips. There was no warmth in the sea blue eyes, no softness. She turned Dondi back to the road and headed back for the castle.

"She promised!" Mikkal looked like a petulant little boy.

"Did she?" Jareth's eyes narrowed. "I'd love to deal with you myself, but I don't dare. So, Captain Devon and I will escort you back to Avalon, and we'll see what Oberon has to say."

Megan had to stop once on the road, to throw up. By the time she reached the stables, she was pale, shaking and crying. A silent groom took Dondi, and she fled to her rooms, clutching the mandolin case to her heart.

"Megan," Sarah, alerted by a concerned Brin, found Megan curled up on her bed, crying and holding the precious instrument. "Why?"

"He hates me now. I saw it in his eyes," Megan sobbed. "He thinks I've betrayed him, and you and Jareth as well."

"Devon doesn't hate you. Why would he think you've betrayed anyone?" Sarah sat next to her.

"I made a deal with Mikkal," Megan drew a ragged breath. "I'd go with him, marry him, and he'd leave the children and Devon alone."

"Mikkal threatened my children?" Sarah demanded, her anger bursting into flame.

"Mikkal sent the nightmares. It's his fault Toby remembered the fire," Megan nodded. "He said he could make our nightmares reality. I wasn't sure he couldn't. I couldn't bear the thought of being wrong if I called him on it. Cold iron…" she hid her face behind a curtain of hair, and sobbed.

"Brin, fetch Healer Candon," Sarah requested. **_'Jareth!'_**

'_**I'm a bit busy right now, Sarah. Is Megan back yet?'**_

'_**Crying as if her heart is broken, which it may well be. That bastard threatened our children! And there's something about Devon and cold iron, which I can't get out of her. I've sent for Candon.'**_

'_**Good. We'll be back as soon as we can.'**_

"I commend you for catching the miscreant, Jareth," Oberon sat on his throne. Just behind him stood the grim-faced Kings of Oak and Holly. "Where did you run him to ground?"

"In my own kingdom, Your Majesty," Jareth replied tersely. "He came to steal the Lady Megan…again."

"She chose me!" Mikkal said defiantly.

"So you keep saying. Since I heard her threaten to tear your throat out, I have my doubts," Jareth stated. He glanced at Devon, expecting his friend to make some comment about the Bond that already existed between him and Megan. Devon was silent and stone-faced. Jareth drew a crystal orb from the air. "This is what Hoggle saw yesterday. He could not hear what was being said." He lobbed the orb gently in his father's direction.

"It is clear the lady is not happy," Oberon commented. "She looks decidedly backed into a corner."

I didn't touch her until the deal was made," Mikkal stated. "Then I sealed it with a kiss. A Kiss of Claiming, King Oberon. That's binding!"

"Only if it's the first," Jareth pointed out. "And I know for a fact it was not." **_'Was it, Devon?'_**

'**_If she wishes to be released from the Bond to me, so be it,' _**Devon responded quietly, his tone flat.

'**_Don't be a pratt!'_** Jareth's thought thudded into Devon's mind. He didn't even flinch. "Mikkal's been breaking rules. He's invaded the dreams of three people. Both of my children, and the Lady Megan herself."

"They're humans! That's not against…" Mikkal began.

"The children are Changlings. In time, they will be Fey," Oberon pointed out. "More to the point, they are the children of the Goblin King, and the boy is Jareth's heir. As for the Lady Megan, we aren't quite sure what she is yet."

"She's human! I brought her to these realms, I should know!"

"But wounds caused by the thorns of the Blood Rose changes humans, if it does not kill them," Jareth said. "I just had another thought, Oberon. Mikkal must have known Sarah and I were not at home. He never would have dared interfere with my children otherwise. Which means, he also must have known about the race riots." Mikkal's face lost a good deal of its smug complacency then.

"Ah," Oberon leaned forward. "And just what do you know about them, eh Mikkal?"


	21. Chapter 21

146

**Chapter 20.**

Jareth returned, alone, late that night. Sarah and Megan were sitting in the Queen's Solar, waiting to hear what had happened. Megan had long since stopped crying, but she was still pale. She played her mandolin softly, stopping only when Jareth appeared in the room.

"Mikkal is to be Banished," Jareth kissed Sarah's forehead, and sat on the arm of her chair with one arm draped around her shoulders. "To the world of Humans, stripped of all Fey magic."

"Jalina must be having fits," Sarah guessed.

"Jalina is blaming it all on Megan."

"The Queen of Par Valon needs to take a long, hard look in a mirror," Megan's voice was bitter. "Her son stole me from my world. He hounded me through three kingdoms…"

"He plotted with traitors, although his reason wasn't treason," Jareth added.

"Where is Devon?"

"Hunting. Garthon made use of Mikkal's obsession with you," Jareth replied. "And now, of course, he is missing. Quite possibly, he's gone to ground at Dumont's estates, since the former duke has also been implicated by Mikkal's rather… wordy commentary." Sarah looked at him with a question in her eyes and mind, and he shook his head slightly. "Megan, I need to know exactly what happened between you and Mikkal yesterday."

"I woke from a nightmare," Megan's voice was soft, and her eyes were on the mandolin. "I could still hear Mikkal calling me, so I knew he was somewhere close by. I also knew he must have something to do with the nightmares. So I went to confront him. What I thought I could actually do…" she shrugged. "He told me if I didn't agree to go with him, to marry him, the nightmares would get worse. And then, they would become reality. I couldn't take the chance he was bluffing. I couldn't!" Her hands shook, and she had to take a deep breath before she could continue. "I know how little Mikkal's word means, so I made him give me his Oath. I told him I couldn't leave then, I'd be missed too soon. He pulled me out of the saddle, and kissed me, then let me go, since I'd given my Oath that I'd be back there this morning."

"When he kissed you, how did you feel?"

"Sick to my stomach," she admitted. "In fact, I had to stop on the way back to throw up. May I be excused? I still feel unwell."

"Good night, Megan," Jareth nodded. Megan left the room.

"She's convinced Devon hates her now," Sarah said sadly.

"He's not happy with her," Jareth sighed. "I honestly don't know what he's going to do. He does feel betrayed, but they are half- Bonded…"

"What do you mean, half-Bonded?" Sarah demanded.

"When Devon gave her the mandolin, he also gave her the Kiss of Claiming," Jareth explained. "Last night, she spent the night in his bed, and he took the next logical step. Only two things remain for a complete Bonding on Devon's level; an exchange of vows before witnesses, and a Royal Blessing."

"You don't think Devon's going to finish the job."

"She could have told him what was going on. She didn't," Jareth replied. "Did you find out anything more of her nightmare?"

"No, she won't speak of it. If I ask, her eyes just get…haunted. Like mine did, when I had nightmares about Dad and Karen," Sarah shook her head.

"Then all we can do is wait and watch," Jareth stated. He looked thoughtful, remembering the scene in the orb the night before. Megan had claimed she'd gone to Devon's chambers to assure herself of his safety and health. What nightmare had pushed that comment from her lips?

"Jareth," Sarah's voice shook. "Look." She was pointing at the floor near the chair where Megan had been sitting. Several blood red petals lay on the carpet.

Devon returned two days later, grim and silent. He reported straight to Jareth in the throne room.

"Dumont has been stripped of Fey magic, and will join Mikkal in Banishment Above," the Captain reported. "Garthon as well. Dumont's wife, son and daughter have opted to go to Huon's Court. There was not enough evidence to prove how deeply they were involved in the scheme, although they knew of it."

"An end to one headache, at least," Jareth eyed his friend closely. "Have you seen Megan yet?"

"I have no intention of seeing the Lady Megan, Sire," Devon said stiffly.

"I think you should. There are still some missing pieces, and I'd like very much to have them," Jareth said carefully. "She won't tell Sarah…"

"I highly doubt she'd tell me, Your Majesty. She had an opportunity before, and failed to do so," Devon's voice was cold.

"And the Bonding?"

"Was never finished, she never acknowledged it, and I will learn to live with the…discomfort," Devon shrugged. "If I may be excused? I do have reports to write up." Jareth waved him off. Now was not the time to push the issue of Megan.

Megan, standing behind the screen of the musicians' galley above the throne room, watched Devon leave. She'd heard every word. Her face was white, but she was bound and determined not to cry. Even if she went to Devon now, it was obvious he wouldn't listen. She turned away, heading back to the Royal Apartments. She didn't notice the petals that fell from her sleeve.

"We'll have to start bandaging this again, my lady," Brin frowned when she saw Brin's arm that evening. "It was doing so well! Almost healed, and now this?"

"It doesn't matter, Brin," Megan shrugged. "And Clorin can always make use of the petals, I'm sure."

"Your Majesty, if I might have a few moments of your time?" Megan had made a decision. Devon had been back for two weeks now, and had continued to go out of his way to avoid her, even to the point of assigning a groom to her riding lessons. She'd stopped going after that. She had lost weight, she had trouble sleeping, and her arm was definitely getting worse, although she'd forbidden Brin from telling anyone about that.

"A few. I'm rather busy," Jareth waved her closer. As usual, he was reclined on his great throne, the picture of complete indolence. Megan knew it was just a picture. Jareth was so deeply connected to Labyrinth, castle and Queen, he could monitor half his kingdom without batting either mismatched eye.

"This is a letter of resignation, Sire," she handed him an envelope. "I no longer feel competent to deal with the children's education. And I wish to go to Annwn. Perhaps Lord Arawn has a position there which I can fill."

"Why?" Jareth stared at her.

"I could give you a list of perfectly valid reasons," Megan sighed. "But you already know the truth."

"I never would have expected you to run away, Megan," Jareth sat up straight. Megan said nothing, just bowed her head. A few petals escaped her sleeve to flutter to the floor. Devon claimed she didn't know anything about the Bonding, but Jareth wondered. "Resignation rejected." He tossed the envelope into the air as he stood, and it burst into flame. "My children's happiness is more important to me than how well the governess they adore handles her love life."

"Jareth, please…" Megan looked up, pleading.

"And no one here will help you run away to Annwn, or any place else," Jareth stepped down to stand before her. He pulled a crystal orb from the air. "Pretty, isn't it?" His voice was compelling. Megan's eyes lost focus as she gazed at the orb. "Show me, Megan. Give me the nightmares that still plague you, little friend."

The orb darkened. The image of his best friend, bloodied, bruised, and being tortured with cold iron was enough to make even Jareth flinch. So that was what Mikkal used against Megan! No wonder she wouldn't talk about it. Then the images shifted. Devon was still the focus, only now he was hale and healthy… and bedding Amberlee de Corsica. Jareth banished the orb.

"They didn't happen, and they never will, Megan," Jareth said softly, drawing his hand down over Megan's face, closing her eyes. He returned to the throne, reseating himself in his usual casual elegance, then snapped his fingers. Megan's eyes opened again. "Shouldn't you be in the music room at this time of day, my lady?"

"Yes, Sire," Megan sighed, curtsied, and left the throne room in defeat.

"Captain Devon, report to the Crystal Ballroom!" Jareth snapped loudly, knowing Devon would hear him, no matter where he was. Then he vanished from the throne.

Devon was on his guard when he entered the Crystal Ballroom. It was not a place Jareth used for meetings. The king had created the room for Sarah years ago, before Sarah was actually old enough to accept all Jareth offered.

"What happens to a Fey when faced with Cold Iron, Captain?" Jareth demanded as Devon entered the room. The king had his back to his friend.

"Nothing good, Sire," Devon replied, a bit bewildered. "Cold Iron causes twice as much damage to us as it does to humans."

"Something a student of folklore and mythology would know," Jareth turned now. He was playing with the orb in his fingers. "A year ago in this very room, you told me off over my treatment of Sarah. No, old friend, it is my turn. You are acting like a complete idiot!"

"There was never any doubt Sarah loved you. Megan came to my bed already promised to marry another man!" Devon snapped defensively.

"She was already yours!" Jareth insisted. "And you… you were prepared to let her go without any fight whatsoever. I thought you more of a man, Captain."

"She made her choice."

"And you can't bring yourself to ask her about it, can you?" Jareth sneered. Devon said nothing. Jareth flung the orb at him. "Look into the orb."

"One of your tricks, Your Majesty?"

"Look at it!" Jareth commanded. "See why Megan agreed to marry that snivelling little bastard. Or, at least, part of the reason. Mikkal told Megan he could make her nightmares, hers and the children's, reality."

"That is beyond his power."

"You know that, and I know that. Megan couldn't be sure of it, Devon," Jareth shook his head. "Look into the orb."

Devon looked, and his blood ran cold. Then his temper kicked in. If this was what Mikkal had showed Megan, the idea of it becoming real would have driven her to insanity. The second image, of him bedding Amberlee, was a kick in the gut. Nothing could convince him more where Megan's heart was, if that was a nightmare to her. He crushed the orb in his fist.

"I should have asked her," he admitted quietly. "Fine, you're right. I've been as big an idiot as you ever were."

"Maybe not quite. You ignored Megan, you never degraded her," Jareth snorted. "But don't you think you need to do something about it? Before she finds a way to get to Annwn?"

"Annwn?"

"Megan tried to resign as governess, and asked to be sent to Annwn," Jareth nodded. "Of course, I rejected…"

"Megan!" Devon felt a bolt of pain pass through him.

"The music room!" Jareth vanished at the same time as his friend.

Megan lay on the floor, her face white, her arm on a layer of rose petals. Nanny had taken the children out already. Sarah and Talis were kneeling by Megan.

"I thought her arm was almost healed?" Devon pulled the slight form into his arms. "Megan?"

"I sent for Candon," Sarah allowed Jareth to help her to her feet.

"Get her to her room, Devon," Jareth ordered. Devon nodded, and vanished.

"Lady Megan!" Brin had been putting away clean clothes when Devon appeared with Megan in his arms.

"Why was no one told her arm was worse?" Devon demanded, setting Megan gently onto the bed.

"She forbade me to say anything. And when Lady Megan forbids something, it is almost as iron-clad as the King or Queen's edicts," the Elvin maid replied. "It was almost healed. It opened up again the day you… Oh, get out!" She shoved him aside, away from the bed and the unconscious woman on it. "This is as much your fault as hers! She doesn't eat, she doesn't sleep…"

"Go and let Candon in, Brin," Devon ordered, trying to move past her.

"Go let him in yourself!" Brin snapped. "And to think I encouraged her about you. Get out, Captain. I'll tend my own mistress!"


	22. Chapter 22

155

**Chapter 21.**

Devon only went as far as Megan's sitting room, pacing like a caged great cat. Candon came in, followed by Sahan and Sarah.

"Devon, you're needed in the throne room," Sarah informed him.

"I need to be here!" Devon shook his head.

"Captain, your King has ordered your presence in the throne room," Sarah said sternly. Then she relented a little, and put a hand on his arm. "Go, Devon. We've got company, and you're the only one who can answer some of their questions. I'll stay with Megan, I promise."

Jareth was not looking happy when Devon arrived in the throne room. Oberon was there, and a dark haired, dark eyes Fey lord. Devon recognized Arawn of Annwn, and wondered what had brought him to the Goblin Kingdom. Especially in the company of Jalina and Mikkal.

"What is he doing here?" Devon pointed at Mikkal.

"His presence is basically required," Oberon stated. "Lord Arawn has come to me with an interesting tale."

"Can we get to the point?" Jareth requested brusquely. "I have no wish for a prolonged visit from Mikkal, and Captain Devon has somewhere else he needs to be."

"Queen Jalina has informed me there is one here who should, by right, be in Annwn," Arawn said in his gave, gravely voice. "A human girl who should be dead."

"Had she died, believing in the old gods as she does, she would have gone to the Shadelands," Devon nodded. "She did not die. Mikkal interfered and carried her to Par Valon. The only thing he has ever done for which I may actually owe him thanks."

"Did she Call for saving?"

"She did not," Jalina stated. "Mikkal has long…admired King Jareth, and sought to emulate him. He had been watching this girl for some time, and found her pleasing and suitable. So, when she was in danger, he intervened. Perhaps it was rash, but he was in love."

"The Law forbids such interference," Arawn reminded. "And humans beyond a certain age do not adjust to the world of Fey."

"Megan had," Devon said. "She has made a place for herself. And she is no longer quite human, having been cut by the thorns of a Blood Rose."

"She broke her Oath!" Mikkal spat.

"She kept it. Her Oath was only to meet you at the treeclock," Jareth said. "She was there. I ordered her to return to the castle."

"But, by Law, she is my subject, not yours, Goblin King," Arawn said. "And there seems to be some question where she chooses to be."

"She chose me!" Mikkal announced. "But the Goblin King interfered, and kept her from me. Unlawfully, I add!"

"She cut a deal with you, in order to protect those she loves," Jareth countered.

"Using coercion, deceit, and guile to gain what we want is not against the rules," Mikkal shrugged. "You did the same yourself, King Jareth."

"I did not terrorize my children to gain my queen!" Jareth snapped.

"I bestowed the Kiss of Claiming," Mikkal stated. "Once bestowed, only I may release that Bond."

"I bestowed the Kiss of Claiming on the Lady Megan two weeks before you did," Devon informed him. "And I did not release it."

"Did either of you inform the girl what you were doing?" Arawn asked.

"No, my lord," Devon admitted.

"She knew my kiss was to seal the bargain we made," Mikkal smirked. "She accepted it."

"Liar!" Hoggle accused, stepping from behind the throne. "You forced the kiss on her! I saw! Saw the poor girl ready to be sick, too."

"You little scab!" Mikkal glared at the dwarf.

"Mikkal, I am the only one permitted to call Hoggle names," Jareth informed him coldly.

"I have been informed Captain Devon's only interest in the girl was to steal her from Prince Mikkal," Arawn said, before the conversation could go off the track.

"Mikkal has been stripped of both rank and magic," Oberon reminded.

"And Captain Devon could hardly steal from Mikkal that which never was Mikkal's," Jareth added.

"He has always been jealous of my son!" Jalina insisted. Jareth rolled his eyes.

"Oh come now, madam! You expect anyone to believe that?" the Goblin King demanded. "Devon is older, he's a better rider, a better swordsman, a better scholar, has always had more females flinging themselves at him, is far more respected…"

"And is a younger son of a duke, forced to take service with Oberon's wayward boy!"

"Being the younger son of a duke has its advantages, Jalina," Devon smiled slightly. "And no one forced me to take service with Jareth. I chose to do so. I like my job."

"Where is the girl?" Arawn asked.

"Taken ill, my lord," Devon informed him. "We thought her arm almost completely healed, but…"

"I will speak to her," Arawn said.

"She was unconscious when I carried her to her chambers, Lord Arawn."

"A likely story!" Mikkal snorted. "You are just afraid…"

"Lord Arawn," Brin appeared in the doorway, summoned by Jareth. "If you will follow me? I will take you to Lady Megan."

"I will go…" Jalina began.

"You will stay," Arawn stated. "I will speak to the girl alone."

Megan was still unconscious, her face still white, when the lord of Annwn entered her chamber.

"My Lord Arawn," Candon bowed deeply. "I cannot help her. Perhaps you can."

"Leave us, all of you," Arawn instructed. Sarah hesitated. "You need only step into the next room, Your Majesty." She nodded, and left. Arawn sat on the edge of the bed, and lifted the injured arm. He knew why the healing process reversed, the minute he touched her. He could also feel it was reversed yet again, and Megan was struggling to heal herself. She was too weak now, though. He drew his hand down along the wound, cleaning, healing and closing it. The pain on Megan's face eased, but her eyes remained closed. Arawn gaze fell on the mandolin. He plucked a few notes, and smiled to himself. Then he set the mandolin back down. "Wake up, Megan. You've been sleeping too long, and those who love you best are worried," he commanded. The grey eyes fluttered opened. "Good afternoon, young lady. I am Arawn, Lord of Annwn. I understand you know of me."

"Yes, my lord," Megan nodded. "Why are you here? Jareth said he would not help me get to Annwn."

"Oh really? And why did you seek to come to my Court? And when?"

"I asked him this morning, when I tried to resign as governess. I love it here, don't misunderstand. I just was not sure if I could continue…" she trailed off, then tried again. "I was happy here, but Mikkal…"

"Yes, Mikkal. He claims you chose him. Captain Devon has informed me he also claimed you, without your knowing."

"I knew, my lord," Megan shook her head. "But Devon hasn't spoken to me since the day Jareth prevented me form leaving with Mikkal." She sighed. "He thinks I betrayed him, willingly broke the Laws of the Goblin King and the High King. It wasn't willingly, but I did agree to marry Mikkal, and I did conceal his whereabouts."

"To protect those you love."

"Yes, but he… I don't know. I didn't tell him what was going on. That has to have hurt him."

"The choice is still yours to make, Megan," Arawn informed her. "Choose Mikkal, and, since he is exiled, you return to the world Above. Choose Annwn, and I will gladly make a place for you at my Court. Choose Devon, remain here, and I can make you no promises."

"Life does not come with promises, my lord. I choose Devon," Megan said, without hesitation. Arawn nodded.

"Then come, my child," he stood, and held out a hand to her. "We shall settle this once and for all in the hall of the Goblin King." When he helped her to her feet, Megan glanced down at her shift and bare feet.

"Not like this," she shook her head. "Green, I think." She twirled slowly, and was clad in a magnificent Kelly green satin Court gown, sprinkled with crystals and trimmed with gold. On her feet were gold slippers. Her hair was swept back and up, with a few curls framing her face, and held by a tiara of gold set with emeralds. "Sarah is the only one I have no desire to outshine. And maybe Tatiana, but she is not here."

Sarah was pacing the sitting room. When Megan entered, followed by Arawn, she stopped and stared.

"Oh Megan!" Tears filled the green eyes. "You can't leave! Not now!"

"I'm not leaving, Sarah," Megan smiled, and hugged her friend. "But I am going to make damn sure they **_all_** know who and what they're dealing with. You can't go down looking like that, Your Majesty."

"Is this better?" Sarah smiled, stepping away. The peach coloured silk glittered with crystal embellishments, and her crown was encrusted with more crystals. "Jareth is so going to enjoy this!"

"So am I, my friend. So am I," Megan grinned, a bit maliciously.

When they appeared just outside the throne room, Sarah stared at Megan in amazement. Megan had translocated them, not Sarah.

"Learn to face the change," Megan quoted with a wink. She entered the throne room at Sarah's side, as regal as any princess in attendance of a beloved queen.

"Welcome ladies," Jareth bowed to the two of them, offering his hand to Sarah. "Lady Megan, I am pleased to see you so… fully recovered."

"Thank you, Sire," Megan curtsied to him. She curtsied even more deeply to Oberon, who eyed the exposed expanse of breast appreciatively. "Your Majesty." She rose and inclined her head briefly at Jalina. "Queen Jalina."

"You still need lessons in etiquette, I see," Jalina frowned.

"Not from a traitor to Oberon's Law, I don't," Megan stated. "Only you could have helped your son escape the Kings of Oak and Holly, and kept him hidden. Garthon never had that kind of power, and I greatly doubt Dumont would have risked it for no reward. Unless, of course, the plan was for Mikkal to marry Adele Dumont, and just keep me for a toy. Not that Adele would have accepted that arrangement any more than I would."

"I would never make such a deal!" Mikkal protested, leering at her. "You are magnificent, my darling Meg!"

"Do not ever call me that again, you spoiled, selfish little worm," Megan's voice dripped distain. "I am not, never was, and never will be your anything. Except, maybe, your worst nightmare. And my name is not Meg. You call me anything but Lady Megan again, and I will castrate you." She turned slowly to look at Devon. "What, no comment from you, Captain Devon?"

"I am unsure of my right to make any comment, my lady," Devon bowed to her. "I once challenged a king on the subject of his wounded pride, yet I fear I have acted with no better manners in the face of my own." She eyes him thoughtfully, then turned to face Oberon again.

"I understand there is some amount of contention surrounding me, my Lord High King," she said.

"That might be a bit of an understatement, Lady Megan, but yes," Oberon nodded.

"My Lord Arawn offered me three choices. Mikkal, and returning to the Human world; a place at his own Court in Annwn; or I could choose to remain here, and make my own future with no guarantees," Megan stated. "My life Above is over. It would have been, even if Mikkal had not stolen me from my world. I cannot go back, especially now. So I choose…"

"Megan," Devon took a step toward her, one hand half raised to reach for her.

"I choose now as I have chosen in the past," Megan reached out for that hand. "I choose Devon. We have already begun the Bond, and I would finish it now."

"What, in public?" Jalina demanded.

"Don't be vulgar, Jalina," Megan told her. "All that is left of the process is the exchange of witnessed vows and the Royal Blessing."

"You've slept with him?" Mikkal demanded, looking crushed.

"The night before Jareth caught you on the hill," Megan nodded, smirking. It was such a perfect copy of Jareth's own, Sarah had to cover her giggles.

Devon took both of Megan's hands in his, and stood facing her, the sea blue eyes riveted to the storm grey.

"I, Devon, vow before these witnesses that this woman, Megan, is my choice, my Bonded mate," he stated firmly, his voice ringing through the chamber.

"I, Megan, vow to the very universe, which holds both the realm of the Fey and the world of Humans, that this man, Devon, is my choice, my Bonded mate," Megan replied. "There has never been, and never will be anyone for me but him."

"As King of the Goblin Realm, I bless this union!" Jareth declared quickly, before Oberon could speak. Devon grinned at his friend before picking Megan up into the air to kiss her. "Sorry, Father, but I've been waiting to do that for at least a month!"

"I suppose I can forgive you," Oberon chuckled. "I usually do. Guards, escort Mikkal to the gates of the Human realm, and kick him through. Then escort Queen Jalina back to Yns Ays. There is a little matter of aiding and abetting a fugitive from justice to clear up."


	23. Chapter 23

156

**Chapter 22.**

"There are still a few things I don't understand," Devon lay against the pillows of their new bed in the re-opened apartment, with Megan's head resting against his chest.

"Why didn't I just tell you about Mikkal?" Megan asked. "Or tell Jareth the little twit was in his kingdom? I wasn't thinking straight. Lack of sleep and nightmares about the man you love being tortured…" she shivered and snuggled closer to him. "It does strange and nasty things to your mind."

"What about your arm?" He brushed the unmarred skin with his fingertips. "I know it was barely a red mark on Claire's birthday. But I also saw the petals in the music room."

"I happened," she sighed. "The biggest reason humans die from Blood Rose thorns is that they reject the changes. When I was in Par Valon, I was consciously rejecting anything and everything to do with the realms of the Fey. So, when I got cut by the thorns, it didn't even start healing. When I came here, I started accepting this world and my place in it. You were a big part of that, Devon."

"So when I started rejecting you, and didn't finish the bonding…" he looked pained. Megan kissed him.

"On some level, I started rejecting myself," she admitted softly. "But on that same level, I knew when you carried me to my room. I knew I couldn't leave you. I started trying to heal again. Arawn had to help me, because I was rather weak by then. He wouldn't have helped if he hadn't sensed I was ready to accept the changes completely."

"If Jareth hadn't stopped you that morning…"

"I'd have gone with Mikkal. I probably would have been dead within a few days, because I would have given up completely. Of course, Mikkal would be dead, as well, because no way in any world was I actually going the bed that little brat."

"Fey can't kill Fey, Megan."

"I'm not Fey. Even now, I'm not really Fey," she shook her head.

"You have Fey magic," he pointed out.

"Some, yes, and I will probably age like the Fey. But I am still not Fey."

"You're not Fey, but you're not Human anymore. So, just what are you?" he asked teasingly.

"Just Mad Megan," she grinned. "And ain't it a divine madness?"


End file.
